


A Tout Le Monde

by EndoratheWitch



Category: Strange Magic (2015)
Genre: Accident, Angst, College, F/M, Huamn AU, Marriage, Oral Sex, Pain, Sex, Wedding Planning, motor accident
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-25
Updated: 2017-10-04
Packaged: 2018-04-17 03:23:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 22,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4650414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EndoratheWitch/pseuds/EndoratheWitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bog moves to the United States from Scotland for college<br/>Marianne does the same</p><p>Bog is around 21 while Marianne is 19 in this AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The End

**Author's Note:**

> Anon asked me to write some angst which I am not very good at but I am giving it a try! The title is from a Megadeath song "A Tout Le Monde"  
> The chapter title "The End" is from a song by The Doors  
> I am not sure if I should continue with this, so kudos or comments will let me know if I should. Thank you!

Bog had his hands shoved so far into the pocket of his jeans it would take an effeort to get them out again. He had his shoulders slumped forward, not from the weight of his backpack, but in an attempt to make himself smaller, less tall, less noticable, to hide as best he could. It was the first morning at his new American college. So far, he had managed to get through everything, leaving his mother behind, the plane ride here, finding an apartment, orientation and picking up books, all the little yet difficult things for someone who simply wanted to be left alone. But he had managed to do all of it without too much fuss. But now it was time to attend classes. 

Part of him still could not believe he had done any of this. Despite how smart he was, his marks were not the greatest. It was his test scores that saved him and his determination to get out of Glasgow and away from all the torments of growing up. He could also feel some of the scars he bore from his rough childhood. It was as if just thinking about them brought back the ache, creating phantom pains in their place. The self inflicted cuts along his forearms burned the most for all the times he thought about how easy it would have been to end the pain himself. But he had pushed beyond all that and was now starting over, he hoped. 

He tried to ignore the stares leveled his way. He was too tall, too thin, too ugly and now he could add his accent to his many failings. But at least he was out of Scotland, away from anyone that knew him and maybe he could have a fresh start even though part of him doubted it would amount to anything beneficial. He swore to himself—no friends, no companions of any sort. They only ended up betraying you, and women? His heart being broken had also ended up with humilation and a broken arm from said girl's boyfriend Brutus back home. Fuck all of them, he thought to himself. He was happy alone. And most importantly, no one could hurt him again, especially if he stayed alone. 

As he walked up the long path to the college campus, he stopped for a moment, his eyes traveling up the entrance arch that ended at the top with a clock tower. He took a deep breath, ignoring a few glances in his direction as people walked around him. He closed his eyes, muttering to himself, “This will be different. No one knows me and I can be left alone.” He set his face in an angry sneer, his protection, his shield against people and set his long legs forward to find his first class. 

Bog went to his first class, a class on the poetry of Robert Frost. As he walked in, for a moment he was shocked to see that the it was one of those large auditorium rooms with a lot of students. Bog swallowed. He was so nervous, which made him angry, which in turn made him glower. He started walking down the stairs glancing to the sides for a seat off away from others. He finally found one at the edge of the left aisle and slumped into the seat. That was when he saw her. She came down and took the seat right in front of him. 

She had a short punky hair style, the tips dyed purple to match her eye makeup that he had caught a glimpse of as she spun around and flopped into the seat. She was wearing dark purple leggings and a long dark shirt. She was fierce and adorable at the same time. Bog stared at the top of her head in shock at seeing someone so, well, gorgeous sitting right in front of him when someone else slipped into the row to sit down next to her. A blonde, atheltic type, one of those of guys that always made Bog want to hit something. 

The blonde leaned his arm along the back of the chair of the young woman in question. He smiled at her, his voice a long sensual Southern drawl. “Hey, Buttercup.” The woman turned on him, grabbed his arm and threw it back at him, her accent gave her away as British, which surprised Bog as she snarled, “Roland, go away. I cannot believe you took this class just to follow me around!” 

Roland, the blonde, chuckled. “Marianne, come on! What we had over the summer was beautiful, you have to admit it was! And I know you still love me! I can't help it if other women throw themselves at me!” 

Marianne, the beauty in front of Bog hissed, “Roland, what I saw was not a girl throwing herself at you. Now go sit somewhere else!” Roland frowned at her, but stood with a smile. “I am not giving up on us yet!” He turned to leave and saw Bog sitting back there and gave him a disgusted look before going over to sit with what looked to be a set of male triplets. Bog was accustomed to that sort of group, He could read them like a book. Those were the blonde guy's henchmen, hangers on, Roland's personal goons. Bog rolled his eyes at the hated males as the girl in front of him slumped in her seat and crossed her arms over her chest. About that time the professor stepped in and the first day of class began. 

Bog kept his face down, taking notes or looking over the syllabus, refusing to make any sort of eye contact if he could help it. While he ran his eyes over the syllabus, his heart stopped; one of the things over the semester would be a partnered project. Bog cursed to himself, one of his worst nightmares, working with someone. He hated having to spend time with people, it was always hard and awkward. He nervously pulled at the long sleeves of his shirt, wishing he could turn into a shadow. 

The girl in front of him looked around and then turned all the way around and quickly hissed, “Hey, would you be my partner for that one project on the syllabus?” she quicky glanced over to the Roland guy she had been speaking with and then back at him. Bog sighed heavily, but he could see she was trying to save herself so before he could really think about it, he muttered, “Yeah, sure.” 

Her brows perked up. “Scottish?” He frowned and nodded, but then she put out her hand. “Marianne.” Bog took her delicate hand in his much larger one. “Bog.” He waited for the look of stifled laughter that usually accompanied his name, but she only smiled. “Hello, Bog.” 

Just before class wound down, Marianne slipped him a piece of paper with her email and phone number. Bog looked shocked, but then he thought, oh wait, partners, so he supplied her with his email and phone number too. She stood and left with a smile at him. Bog frowned. He glanced over and saw Roland glaring daggers at him, but Bog simply smiled one of his best nasty smiles and walked away. 

Over the course of the day, it quickly became apparent that Marianne was an English major like him. They shared nearly all their classes together. By the last class of the day, Gothic literature, Marianne was purposely looking for him and they had agreed to partner for any projects that required it. Each class also contained Roland, who was clearly stalking her and who had just as quickly realized that she was using Bog as a shield from him. 

The first few weeks of classes were tolerable. Bog managed to mostly be left alone. His conversations with Marianne were restricted to in class, but one day she asked him to get a coffee with her after class. Bog stood there silent for a moment just staring at her, his blue eyes expressing his confusion by the request. Marianne twisted her lips for a moment and then asked, “Tea? I mean if you don't like coffee, it's no problem.” 

Bog frowned. “Ah, no it's fine. Where?” She smiled then and he frowned more, she had a cute smile. “There is a little place down town called Flower Fields Coffee. Meet me down there?” Bog nodded and Marianne grinned at him. 

No sooner than she had walked away when suddenly Roland was in his face with his goons. “Don't you even think about her being your girlfriend, ya Scottish twig. She is my girl. You got it?” He shoved Bog in the shoulder to emphasize his point. Bog narrowed his eyes and hissed back, “Maybe that should be her decision, you southern twat.” Roland looked ready to start a fight right there, but Bog turned on his heels and walked away grinding his teeth as he did so. 

Bog took his motorcycle to the coffee shop. He found the place to be a little cafe with flowers pouring out of every window. Coffee with Marianne was actually nice. They talked about their shared love of poetry and how they were both writers. They discussed their projects that were coming up. Both of them were able to agree on what would be a great project for their classes. Agreement happened far easier than either of them expected. She asked Bog about his reasons for going to college in America, but he kept his answers vague. Marianne mentioned wanting to get away from home, which Bog could fully understand, but he found it difficult to imagine Marianne having anything to run away from. Bog found she was fun to talk to and she did not seem to be put off by him. As they were finishing up and Bog stood pulling her chair out for her, she leaned in and kissed him lightly on the cheek with a smile. “Thank you.” 

Bog blushed and looked down with a whispered, “Not a problem.” His accent thickly rolled over the words. She grinned and waved. “I will call you later, alright?” Bog nodded unable to speak for a moment. 

He left with a smile as he pulled his backpack straps over his shoulders and walked over to his bike. For a moment he thought, maybe things will be better. He hopped on his bike, pulled his helmet over his head and started pulling out onto the busy street. He had only just gotten out onto the road and turned toward his apartment when from the corner of his eye he saw a flash of color. He turned just as the car slammed into him. He was temporarily aware of flying off his bike, his side hitting the road and his head slamming into the pavement then nothing. 

When Bog awoke he was in a hospital bed. He was hooked up to all sorts of machines and he started choking on the tube in his throat. A nurse hurried in and helped pull out the tube as Bog sat up, coughing. She held him until he was breathing more normally, then laid him back down having adjusted his pillows. He could not keep the groan of pain in check, as his whole body was weak. She smiled, a kindly looking older woman with soft grey eyes. “You had us worried there, son.” She checked his vitals before turning back to him. “How are you feeling?” Bog groaned, confused and drugged. “What happened? Where am I?” 

The nurse smiled. “Love the accent. You are in the hospital. Let me go get the doctor for you. You just lie still. You've been out for a while okay?” 

She hurried out as Bog managed to push himself up further in the bed, a hospital? He could remember nothing except having coffee with Marianne. He had a bandage on his forehead, several others covering places on his arms and one large bandage across his chest. As he moved, trying to put his legs over the side of the bed it was then that the blankets fell away and Bog saw that he was missing his right leg from below the knee. He stared in disbelief feeling a hollow, echoing emptiness descend on him.


	2. The Sound of Silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marianne tries to help Bog as he begins to deal with the changes in his life.

Marianne arrived at the hospital soon after Bog regained consciousness. She had been coming ever since she heard about Bog's accident. She had lied and said he was her cousin. She was pretty sure they knew she wasn't, but she felt Bog needed someone. He had no family here, he was completely alone. She had taken it upon herself to contact his mother and had offered to fly her here to be with Bog during his recovery. His mother would be here in a couple of weeks, but she had asked her to continue being by her son's side until she could be there for him. 

When Marianne arrived at the hospital, just as she walked in one of the nurses stopped her. “He's awake.” Marianne's eyes widened. “He is?” 

The nurse nodded. “Yes, but he isn't doing so well. And he is angry.” Marianne frowned, her heart tight. He had lost his leg, of course he would be angry. “Thanks for the warning.” The nurse gave her a smile and let her go. 

Marianne came to Bog's room and gently knocked, but a gruff Scottish voice snarled, “Go away.” She opened the door a crack and peeked in. “Bog?” 

He was sitting up in the bed, his dark hair a mess, sticking out in all directions. He looked pale and thin. When he glanced up, his face registered complete shock. “Marianne? What are you doing here?” 

She smiled, walking in and pulled a chair over to sit down next to his bed. “I have been coming to see you ever since I heard about the accident.” 

Bog looked a cross between horrified and touched. “Then—you know.” 

Marianne frowned, a quick glance at his legs. “Yes, I know, but it's no big deal.” 

Bog snorted. “No big deal? Seriously? Look I don't need you coming here and feeling sorry for me, okay?” 

Marianne bit her lip. “I am not here because I feel sorry for you, Bog. I am here because I was worried about you. AND I talked to all your professors and if I help you, they are going to let you stay enrolled in classes.” 

Bog snorted again. “Why would I?” 

Marianne narrowed her eyes at him. “Because you obviously wanted to go to college, so why let this hold you back.” 

Bog glared at her folding his long arms over his thin chest, his blue eyes sharp. Marianne glared right back. “Fine,” Bog hissed when he realized she was not going to back down. 

Marianne smiled. “Good. I will be back here tomorrow with your books.” 

Bog frowned and sighed in defeat. “Come in the afternoon. I'm starting my physical therapy tomorrow.” 

She nodded. “Want me to stay for dinner? I could catch you up.” 

Bog looked unsure. Part of him wanted her to, the other part of him didn't want her here, not when he was an invalid and not when he was weak, a mess, half a person. 

Marianne grinned. “I will be right back.” She hopped up and pranced out of the room. He could hear voices outside the hospital room and then soon his dinner, still soft foods and another tray of the same for Marianne was brought in. Bog glared at her tray. “You don't have to eat the same shit I do, you know?” 

Marianne grinned. “Hey don't put Jello down! Jello is awesome!” Bog couldn't help it, he snorted a laugh. 

Marianne, over the next week, showed up like clockwork every afternoon to go over assignments with him. If he was too weak, she would stay anyway and let him nap. He didn't know that she would sit there and look at him as he slept. She would sometimes reach out and brush back a lock of his dark hair from his forehead as he slept. He still looked pale, thin, and there were dark circles under his eyes. She had told him that his mother would be here in a week, which had been answered with anger and annoyance, but she suspected he was secretly happy about it. She traced the old scars on his arms, frowning slightly as she did so. He had survived a lot and she knew he was strong enough to survive this. She smiled, reaching up to trace her fingers along his jaw, feeling the roughness of his chin. 

One day she arrived carrying some empty notebooks for Bog to write in. As she turned and opened the door to his hospital room, she found Bog nearly unconscious with pain. She had never seen anyone in so much pain, so much that Bog barely could acknowledge she was there. His jaw was clinched as he ground his teeth, his fists full of sheets. Sweat had broken out across his forehead and his arms were shaking with the effort not to cry out. He was fighting hard against the pain, but he looked bad, very bad. 

“Bog!!” She ran over to him, but Bog only glared at her, his eyes shiny with pain, and snarled, “Go away!” 

She stopped short in shock, just a step from the bed, but then she quickly turned, running from the room and headed to the nurses' station. “Bog is in pain!” She slammed her hands down on the counter, scaring a nurse. “What?” 

Marianne snarled, “I just went in there and he is pain! You have to do something!!” The nurse looked confused. “He never buzzed for help.” 

The nurse jumped up and hurried into Bog's room with Marianne right behind her. Bog yelled and growled, cursing at the nurse to let him be, he could get passed this, but the nurse ignored him, injecting pain medicine into his IV. Bog continued to curse, redirecting his anger on Marianne, but she rushed to his side and took his hand. He squeezed her fingers painfully tight; she knew it was the pain not him trying to hurt her. But she was surprised that he did not break them. But she took the pain until the medicine began to work, thankfully within minutes. His whole body sagged in relief. Marianne continued to hold his hand, lacing her fingers now with his lax hand and then she reached out and tried to stroke a hand across his forehead, but he weakly yanked away. “I don't want you to see me like this! Go away!” 

Marianne snarled, “Bog don't be stupid! I am here to help you. Stop being so stubborn!” He opened his eyes only a slit to glare at her, the blue extremely bright because of the pallid complexion of his skin and the haze of drugs that worked through his system as he muttered, “Why? I'm a cripple. I am more useless now than I ever was before. I just want to be left alone. I want to be left in silence! Just get out!! I don't need any help!” 

Marianne tightened her grip on his hand, holding it tightly in her smaller one despite his feeble attempt to pull it away from her. “Bog, you are one of the strongest people I have ever met! You came here by yourself from another country! I came with my sister! You don't have money to help you and you are doing it by yourself. I have a safety net if anything happens. Now you have been studying and managing to keep your grades up despite being in the hospital! Bog, just accept the help. I am your friend, no matter what you think.” The glare Bog aimed at her was a mix of doubt and need; he wanted to believe her. That look was heart crushing, but she was going to be damned if his temper was going to drive her off. He needed someone whether he wanted to admit it or not. 

By the time she finished yelling back at him, Bog had drifted off, the drugs having taken full effect. She frowned, looking down at him and realizing that things were going to be harder for him. Tomorrow they were going to fit him for his artificial leg. As she gazed down at him, her heart squeezed hard in her chest. She wondered if was she falling for him, because of him, or was it what he feared, that she felt only pity for him? She sighed, no it was him. Damn it all, she didn't need to fall in love again. Roland had been one of her biggest mistakes and she didn't want to repeat that. She looked away. Love was...she growled at herself. No, no love. Not with anyone ever again. She glanced back at Bog. Whatever she was feeling for him would just have to be ignored, especially since he needed a friend rather than a woman falling all over him. 

A few days later, Bog was less willing to snap at her, so she and Bog talked about their homes. They worked on their assignments, he read poetry in that voice of his, and he tried so hard to be strong, but Marianne could tell when he was in pain or getting tired. She never said anything, just told him she was getting tired or hungry, whatever it was, to let him rest without feeling weak in front of her. She just wished she could make him see how strong he really was. She really admired him, maybe even more. But damn it, she didn't need love. She didn't even know how Bog felt. He was a grump, self-deprecating and had only made a comment once about a girl he had thought he was in love with at one time. Someone who broke his heart back home, but then he had closed up about it and said nothing else. 

She rubbed the bridge of her nose as she walked out of Bog's hospital room and down the hall. This whole thing was becoming more and more complicated. But she could not deny that she liked Bog.


	3. A Lesson Never Learned

Bog was going to be released soon. He was still in constant pain and while he was on painkillers, he knew at some point he would either need to try to get himself off or become addicted, but he kept this bit inside to himself. It pissed him off, feeling like this was a new weakness in his character. He was still having trouble with his prosthetic and his anger had gotten the better of him a few times. He had even thrown the offending piece of plastic across his room at one point. His mother and aunt were suppose to be arriving tomorrow and Bog was very grumpy about it. “I would rather be by myself,” he hissed when Marianne had showed up in his hospital room, but she had only sighed. 

“Bog, you know you are going to need help.” 

“Maybe.” 

He had folded his arms across his chest and glared out the window. He had tried to drive Marianne away, but she just wouldn't go. He could not figure out why she would not simply give up on him. She sat by his bed, one of their class books open in her lap. Bog hated to admit it, but one of the things he did like about her was that she never backed down from him no matter how angry or nasty he was being. She just threw it right back at him. As if his leg missing meant nothing to her. Today he was sitting in his bed looking out his window wondering what he was going to do now. Go back to class? He wasn't sure he could take the stares, the false feelings or the pity. For a moment he could just imagine Roland pretending to feel sorry for him as he talked about Bog being a cripple behind his back. 

Bog hated everything except the time he spent with Marianne. He didn't want to enjoy that time with her because a dark part of him just knew it would end, but he couldn't help it. Her smile, her eyes, just the sound of her voice made everything seem better, easier. 

As he sat there looking out the window, he saw Marianne pulling up in her car and with her, he saw his mother. For a moment his heart constricted hard in his chest. He moved and laid back in the bed to wait. 

When they entered the room, Bog's mother Griselda didn't come rushing over and throw herself at him like some mothers would. No, she came over slowly, her eyes full of concern, but she knew her boy would not want her crying as she took the chair near his bed and with a smile took one of his hands. “My boy. How are you doing?” 

Bog glanced at Marianne who smiled at him and turned to leave, but Bog called her back. 

“Marianne, you can stay.” 

Griselda turned. “Oh, of course!” 

She looked back at Bog. “Your Marianne here has just been a gem. She flew me and your aunt here and has put us up in a hotel. Very nice one too, very posh.” 

Bog glanced at Marianne and grumbled. “Thanks, Marianne.” 

She smiled, her eyes soft. “No prob.” 

A few days later Marianne arrived at Bog's apartment to pick him up for physical therapy. His mother had called her to ask if she would mind. Bog had been pretty depressed and she thought a friendly face might help. When Marianne arrived, she heard the sound of something crashing against the wall and then the sound of dishes breaking. She was about to knock on the door when a neighbor happened to stick their head out. “Oh, good! Maybe you can stop him. He has been making noise throwing things for the last hour! I tried to knock and see what was up, but man he cursed me out!” 

Marianne sighed. “Yeah, don't worry. I will talk to him. He is just going through a bad time.” 

The neighbor snarled, “Don't care. Just make him shut up.” 

Marianne knocked, then heard Bog holler. “Go the fuck away!” 

Marianne tried the knob and then slowly opened the door. She saw Bog with his crutches, his hair a mess, looking tired and pale glaring out the window wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. He looked so thin and gaunt, the dark circles under his eyes made the blue stand out starkly against his pale, unshaven face. Even the tattoos on his shoulders and back seemed to blaze against his pale skin, the scars along his arms and the new ones from the accident glared out from his flesh. “Bog?” 

He turned to look at Marianne. His eyes had a haunted appearance. “Marianne? What are you doing here?” 

“Your mother called me. Asked me to take you to physical therapy.” 

Bog snorted. “I ain't going.” 

Marianne quietly closed the door behind her. “Bog, why not?” 

He turned on his crutches. “Look, going to physical therapy is not going to get my leg back, so why bother.” 

“Because you need to learn to use your prosthetic!” 

Bog snarled, his eyes flashing with anger. “Why?” 

Marianne moved over to get right in Bog's face. She was not going to back down and she was angry with him. “Stop it, Bog! You are going!” 

Bog turned on her and for a moment it looked like Marianne was ready to slap him across the face, but instead she grabbed him, surprising the hell out of him. She wrapped her arms around him, nearly knocking his crutches out from under him as she held on tightly, her face buried against his chest. He didn't know what to do. He went very still and looked down at the top of her head. He could hear her breathing hard and fast as she tried to calm herself down. They stayed that way for a few seconds, neither of them moving until finally she lifted her head to look up at him. “Bog, do it for me if not for yourself.” 

Bog took a shuddering breath. “Marianne...why didn't I just die in that accident?” He was trying hard not to, but the tears started to ease from the corner of his eyes and he could not stop them. 

“Oh, Bog!” 

She pulled him to his bed near the window. She got him on the bed, leaned his crutches against the wall and crawled onto the bed with him. She then curled herself around him. He gave in, wrapping his arms tightly about her waist, his one leg wrapped around hers and he buried his face against her breasts and let all the pain and tension go. He cried, his whole body shuddered as he gave in to everything he had been keeping pent up inside. Marianne held on tightly to him, stroked his hair, the back of his neck, until finally she felt his body relax and then the change in his breathing when he had fallen asleep. She moved carefully, grabbing Bog's cell phone from the table to call his mother and let him know he was alright, that she was staying with him and to call to cancel his appointment. Griselda didn't ask any questions, she only said, “Thank you for taking care of my boy.” 

Marianne smiled at the phone. “It's my pleasure.” 

She shifted position a bit so she was on her back with Bog's head resting on her chest. He murmured in his sleep, wrapped his arm around her waist, but he didn't wake. She stroked his hair and down his back until she released her own tension and fell asleep holding him. 

When she woke it was dark in the room. Bog was still asleep, which made her wonder how much sleep he was actually getting. They had both moved so that her head was now on his chest his arm protectively around her. She didn't move, just laid there in the darkness feeling his heartbeat and the rhythm of his breathing. She smiled to herself, running her hand over his stomach, tracing a few of the scars there. That was when she felt his breathing change. He went very still, so she decided to break the silence. “Did you sleep alright?” 

“Yeah, I did. Sorry, Marianne.” 

“Bog, don't be sorry. I am glad I could help.” 

“How long have you been here?” Bog shifted a bit, not too much it was clear he did not want to dislodge her. 

“No idea.” 

Bog swallowed. “I need to take my pills, I think.” 

“Let me help?” Marianne sat up and leaned over him. Her breasts brushed against his chin and she felt him stiffen again as she found the lamp she had seen and turned it on. She looked down at him lying there. He looked a bit better, having gotten several hours of sleep. She smiled. “Let me fix us something to eat. Okay?” Bog nodded and she rolled over to get up on the opposite side of the bed. Bog got himself up and grabbed his crutches and went to the bathroom. He closed the door and stared at himself in the bathroom mirror. He did look a bit better, not as pale. He took his pills out and swallowed them with a handful of water from the sink. He then ran a shower so when he came out he was wearing a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, his hair damp and sticking up, but he looked a million times better. Marianne hadn't found much in his kitchen, so she ordered them pizza. 

After he came out of the bathroom, she threw some money down on the counter and headed into the bathroom herself to freshen up. Soon they were sitting on his threadbare couch eating pizza. Marianne curled up, her knees touching Bog's hip, as she leaned her elbow on the back of the couch. 

Bog chewed thoughtfully for a bit before he glanced sideways at her. “Thank you.” 

Marianne grinned. “Nah, ordering pizza was easy.” 

Bog blushed. “For putting up with me breaking down.” 

She gave Bog a very serious look. “Don't apologize, that's what friends do. They are there for each other.” 

Bog gave her a quizzical look. “So we're friends?” 

She smiled. “I hope so.” 

Bog nodded, looking down at the plate of pizza on his lap. “Not really use to having friends.” 

She reached out, touching his face. “I 'm your friend, Bog. Get use to it.” 

They stared at one another, then she leaned in and kissed him on the mouth. Bog surprised himself as he reached up, his hands moving to either side of her neck. She opened her mouth and brushed her tongue against his lips. He opened his eyes to look down at her. She was struck by how blue his eyes were, how full of emotion, more than she had ever witnessed in Roland. And his eyes pulled something in her, thrumming a cord within her. 

Marianne whispered. “Kiss me, Bog.” He swallowed as he stared, holding her there, then his tongue was inside her mouth and he pulled her closer, the kiss a combination of pain, passion, and loss. Marianne gave Bog back as good as he gave, the kiss so heated it melted them both. A kiss that changed everything.


	4. Change Would Do You Good

Marianne was holding both of Bog's hands as he walked with his prosthetic. It was clear he was in pain, but he said nothing about it as he kept his eyes down watching each step he took, his hands tight in hers. She smiled encouragingly as he moved. He had been getting better with his balance over the last few weeks of her taking him to physical therapy, then working with him at his apartment. 

She slowly let go of his hands, stepping back. Bog gave her a grin as he walked toward her. When he was close enough, she wrapped her arms around his waist, laying her chin against his chest smiling. “You are incredible.” 

He snorted, but he could not keep the smile from his face as he looked down at her. The last two weeks since that first kiss had been, well, it gave him hope. He kissed her softly, but he started to tremble a bit so she helped him to the couch. “Hungry?” 

Bog nodded. “Aye.” 

“How about I run out and get us some burgers?” 

Bog nodded and smiled. “Thank you, Marianne.” 

She leaned on the arm of the couch, stealing a quick kiss. “You are very welcome.” 

He watched her leave as she waved over her shoulder at him. They had not gone beyond just kissing. He was scared to touch her and terrified of her touching him. He was terrified that they could never have more than this. Though she made him feel whole, there was a darkness down deep that told him she would leave, she would be disgusted by him if it went beyond kissing. At some point all of this would end and it would be because of him. 

A few days later Marianne decided that Bog needed to get out. He was doing well on his prosthetic, but he had been keeping himself to the hospital or his apartment not going beyond those two locations. Bog sat in the passenger seat of her car watching the outside. He glanced over at her, frowning. “Where are we going?” 

Marianne grinned, glancing sideways at him. “I am taking you on a picnic.” 

Bog's expression turned panicked. “What?” 

“Bog, you need to get out more.” 

He pressed his lips together in a thin pale line, the color draining from his face. 

She reached over and laid her hand on his thigh. Bog had to control himself not to jump. 

She drove them to a state park, driving up hills until she found an out-of-the-way picnic area that was deserted and isolated. She hopped out and helped Bog. He had his prosthetic on, but he also had the crutches. She made sure to get him over to the benches and then she ran over to pull a picnic basket out of the trunk. Bog stood, taking the basket from her when she returned to Bog. He helped her lay out the food and drinks on the picnic table and then she sat beside him as they talked and ate sandwiches. 

“You know the next term is starting soon. You should register. We could take all our classes together.” She blushed. “It would be fun.” 

Bog sipped his soda, looking unsure. “Are you sure you would want to be seen with me?” 

Marianne looked shocked. “How...why? Bog!” 

He shrugged, looking down at his hands, placing the soda away from him. 

She reached out grabbing one of his hands and kissed his knuckles. “Stop it. I liked you before the accident, I like you even more now, since we have gotten to know each other. So stop it.” She pulled him to her. She reached up with her free hand to cup the back of his head and kiss him. He closed his eyes, relaxing into her kiss. He thought to himself that no matter what happened, this accident brought Marianne into his life, gave him these moments like this with her. He would lose his leg again if it meant having her in his life, even if only for this brief time. 

After they ate, Marianne took his hands, leaving his crutches at the bench and they walked down to the river. She had a blanket in the basket and she threw it over her shoulder to take with them as they moved at a gentle pace down the sloped hill. 

They arrived at the river's edge and she laid out the blanket, then helped Bog down to sit on the blanket. She then plopped down next to him. They laid on their elbows watching the water when Marianne leaned over and kissed him again. She was laying pressed against his side, her legs against his prosthetic. He jerked away, but she moved her hand down his chest. “Bog, don't, please...” 

“Marianne..I just...” 

She stroked her fingertips along his jaw. He trembled at her touch, torn between wanting to yank away and lean further into her touch. Her dark eyes looked from his blue ones down to his lips. “Trust me, Bog. I am here because I want to be. I take you as you are.” Her eyes moved back up to his and she smiled softly. He didn't move, as if he was scared to shatter the moment, that he might break a spell, but then she leaned up and kissed him. Bog closed his eyes, it was hard to relax as she pressed against him, but he slowly laid back with Marianne moving with him. 

She laid across his chest and then she moved slowly, not wanting to startle him as she straddled him. He was still stiff with her sitting on top of him, as if he was afraid to relax, afraid to touch her. She was patient, moving his hands to her thighs. She kissed him slowly, letting her tongue move over his lips and slip along his teeth. He opened his mouth to her, let her tongue slide into his mouth with a moan so broken with need, pain and desire that Marianne felt it in her very being and through her body. His breath came out softly, his hands moved toward her hips. He had never ever wanted to hold someone as much as he wanted to hold her. 

He tried to push his insecurities away and just hold her, kiss her ,to enjoy the moment, but he could not help but be hyper aware of his missing leg, the pain slowly working its way closer to his consciousness. He was about ready to push her away in fear, but he couldn't do it, he didn't want to do it. He looked up at her as she pulled her mouth away, just a little, laying her forehead against his, her eyes meeting his gaze. She smiled down at him, running her hands over his chest smoothing the t-shirt he had on as if trying to relax him knowing how he must be feeling. “I will never push you, Bog. But when you are ready, just know I want you.” 

Their kissing took on a more passionate heat. He surprised himself when he didn't stop her from running her hands under his shirt and when he let his own hand move slowly up to cup one of her breasts over her shirt. Her sharp intake of breath and the way her body pressed against him when he touched her was enough for now. They spent the rest of the afternoon on the blanket, exchanging tender kisses and soft, sensual touches. While he battled with his own sexual frustration and insecurities, he could not fathom that she would be fighting her own as well. As for Marianne, she wasn't sure what to do to convince him that she wanted more, except to make the first move when the time was right. 

A few days later, Marianne drove Bog up to the college to register for classes. He got out of the car looking up at the college with more trepidation than he thought he would have. He knew intellectually that no one was staring at him as he used his crutches without the leg on today, but he couldn't help but feel self-conscious as he and Marianne made their way up to the registrar's office. From there everything went smoothly and Marianne helped to make sure she was in all his classes. The two of them were on their way out, talking about where to get lunch, smiling and gazing at each other. They were headed down the main path, back toward the parking lot when Marianne saw her ex-boyfriend, Roland, making a bee line toward them. 

She had not spoken to him since before Bog's accident. Bog felt her stiffen next to him when they both caught sight of Roland coming their way, his three fan boys following close behind. 

“Shit,” Marianne muttered, but they could not move fast enough to get away from him with Bog on his crutches. They stopped and Bog felt his heart start to speed up. 

“Hey, Marianne,” Roland said casually, but with that self-confident tone that now set Marianne's nerves on edge. “Whatcha up to? Haven't seen you in a while.” Roland looked over at Bog, sneering openly. “Heard you were playing nursemaid to a cripple.” 

The next second Roland was standing there, then suddenly he was flat on his back, holding his bleeding nose. Marianne loomed over him, her eyes narrowed dangerously. 

“You ever call Bog that again and a broken nose will be the least of your problems!” 

Bog was shocked into silence. No one had ever defended him before, at least not anyone who wasn't family. Marianne stepped back from Roland, who was being helped up by his friends. She turned to Bog, still seething. “Come on, let's go.” 

They finished the walk to the car in silence. They got in, Marianne pulling away with a squeal of tires. After a few more minutes, Bog said softly. “Thank you, Marianne.” 

She looked sideways at him and grinned. “You're welcome. Roland is a class A jerk. Don't you ever let anyone call you a cripple, okay?” 

Bog smiled at her. “Or my girlfriend will knock them on their ass?” 

Marianne's heart nearly exploded in her chest. He had never really claimed her as his girlfriend. She blushed a bright crimson that she knew inflamed her cheeks and rushed by to the tips of her ears. She pressed her lips together because she knew she was smiling and if she let it go, the smile would explode as she whispered. “Yeah, your girlfriend will.”


	5. Eye of the Beholder

It had been six weeks since classes had started and things were actually going well, which scared Bog. He was surprised at how things had turned around since returning to college. With Marianne's help he was actually starting to enjoy being out again, his missing leg bothering him less and less. Marianne had started spending most of her nights at his apartment, sleeping over. They still had not gone beyond kissing, but she would sleep next to him in his bed holding him, which helped him get through most nights. 

* 

It was a Sunday morning when he woke with a start. The pain was intense, racing up from his missing limb. The pain from his phantom limb was blinding at times. His doctor was trying to ween him off painkillers, or at least get the dose lower, but the pain was constant. There were some days he could deal with the pain better than others. There were many nights he would wake up covered in sweat, having sweated so much that the bed sheets and his sleeping pants were soaked through as if someone had dumped water on him. He would sometimes wake up thrashing or crying out in fear and pain. If it was a night Marianne had stayed over, which were many, she would get his pills, get him up, changed the sheets and wipe him down with a cool rag, but most importantly, she would hold him until the fear and pain subsided, stroking his hair, kissing his scared face, rubbing his back tenderly. She would whisper how she would be here for him, that he was safe and that she loved him. At first he had hated it. But the longer they were together, the more she whispered how she loved him, to let her help him, he was not a burden, that she would do anything for him, it gradually became easier to deal with those nights. But most importantly, Bog was slowly able to let her love him and return her love as he held onto her and whispered back that he loved her, loved her for who she was. They would fall back asleep holding onto each other tightly and kissing gently. 

* 

That Sunday he sat up quickly, the pain intense, the dream, the crash, all of it so vivid that he cried out. Marianne sat up. “Bog?” 

He hissed in pain, “I'm okay.” 

She jumped out of the bed and ran to fill a glass of water. He could hear her fumbling in the kitchen of his apartment. She was still partly asleep as she came back with the water and sat on the side of the bed. She shook out his pills and handed them to him. He took the tiny white tablets, downing the water before laying back with a shuddering sigh. It would take a little while for the pills to work, but when Marianne moved to snuggle next to him, he gladly opened his arms to let her lay her head against his chest. He always kept her on the side where he still had a leg. He wasn't ready to have her touch the stump, though she never said a word. He was trying to control his breathing, to relax, to let the pills work when Marianne twisted around so she could look him in the face better. He was only sleeping in sweat pants, something he had been doing in the last few weeks. The scars on his chest and arms no longer bothered him as much as they did in the beginning and it was more comfortable to sleep without a shirt. 

“Do you trust me, Bog?” 

He frowned, his lean, sharp features pulled down. She smiled. Despite the pain, he looked adorable, his dark hair rumbled, his unshaven jaw, and his sleepy, pained-filled blue eyes. 

“Let me distract you until the pills kick in.” 

Bog looked confused. “How?” 

Marianne started kissing his chest. Soft, butterfly kisses. He started to protest, but she laid a finger against his lips. 

“Shh...” 

She moved slowly, keeping her pace deliberately easy as she made her way down to his stomach, her hands moved over his groin which caused him to nearly fall off the bed as he tried to get away from her. Marianne grabbed his arm, keeping him on the bed. 

“Bog. Do. You. Trust. Me?” 

She looked so serious and his jerking away from her had sent new waves of pain through him. 

“Yes, but Marianne...” 

“Let me distract you from the pain. Let me love you.” 

The look in her brown eyes was so intense, the emotions so raw. Bog knew he wanted her. He was so scared, more than scared—he was terrified. He laid back down against the pillows, which made her smile. Marianne reached up to stroke her fingers along his jaw, then his lips. He looked so scared, so vulnerable. She eased her way down to his stomach again, her lips brushing lightly over his skin. He swallowed, his flesh immediately goosebumping. He couldn't help the tension, but he also couldn't control how hard he became at the brush of her fingers and lips on his skin. He closed his eyes, shuddering with a mixture of fear and anticipation as she pulled back his pants leaving them just past his erection. 

Marianne touched him lightly causing him to gasp softly. 

“Marianne?” 

She kissed softly at his hip bone, moving her lips down along the space just between his stomach and groin. His muscles contracted under her lips as the tip of her nose brushed along the edge of his stomach. Her breath was so warm, her fingers glided over him. He pressed his lips together looking up at the ceiling in terror as she dragged his pants past his hips. Not only would she see him, but she would see part of his missing leg. He was almost shaking with nervous fear and embarrassment, but then she whispered softly. 

“You're so gorgeous, Bog.” 

He lifted slowly up on his elbows, as if afraid if he moved too quickly the spell would break. He gazed down at her with those clear, innocent blue eyes. Marianne met his eyes with tender brown ones as she let her fingers stroke him softly. Bog groaned; it felt incredible the way she was touching him, it was going to take a power of will not to climax right then. He had never been touched like this, ever. Her brown eyes twinkled in the early morning light leaking through the bedroom window. She moved her mouth closer and placed a kiss on the tip of his erection. He laid back with a moan, closing his eyes—it was almost too much. Marianne guided his erection to her mouth sucking softly, slowly wanting to draw it out as long as she could by moving with careful, deliberate gentleness. 

Bog shuddered, his pain pushed to the back of his mind. Now, all he could focus on was her mouth and tongue on him. She moved her tongue up, then down licking him languidly, her lips tightened around him then loosened as she pulled at his shaft with her mouth. It was not going to take long at all for him to come. No woman had ever touched him like this and he had only been with someone once. He was practically a virgin. Marianne squeezed softly, then started to stroke him. 

He groaned deeply. “Oh, Marianne!” 

His hands moved to her hair as she sucked and licked harder, faster. 

“Stop, Marianne! You don't have to.. it's alright!” 

She grinned. “I want to Bog. I really want to...I love you...” 

He looked down at her in shock. She smiled and pulled him back into her mouth where she continued sucking, pulling, stroking and licking until he had had all he could take. Bog's hips jerked and he cried out her name, his head arched back gasping and crying. His fingers tightening in her hair as he released. Marianne sucked, drinking him down, tasting the slight bitterness of him. She loved it; he was finally open to her. She sucked on him until he was jerking, begging her to stop. She smiled as she sat back, gazing at him with such love in her eyes that he thought his heart would break for love of her. 

Bog laid back down, all liquid-like relaxed, pain forgotten and painkillers working. The smile he gave her was the best thing she had ever seen, her heart almost burst with it. It was one of the few genuine smiles Bog had given her since this whole thing began, his pain forgotten, his body relaxed. She was in love, deeply and perfectly in love with him. Marianne moved forward kissing him gently. She tasted of him as he returned her kiss passionately. She wrapped her arms around him, snuggling in close. Bog held her tightly, kissing her hair, her forehead. She heard the hitch in his breath, then a drop of wetness on her forehead. 

“Marianne, I love you.” 

She smiled, closing her eyes as she laid her head on his chest. He stroked his fingers through her brown unruly waves, as she whispered, 

“Don't cry, Bog.” 

She stroked her fingertips over his stomach. 

He swallowed. “I love you, not...not just for that...” 

“I know, Bog, “ she whispered softly, smiling. 

“What about you?” he asked softly. 

She smiled gently. “When you're ready.” 

“I'm ready.” 

She sat up. “Bog?” 

He blushed, even after what she had just done to him, he was blushing. “I...I love you...I'm just...” 

Marianne brushed her fingers along his stomach and down his hip. “Bog, I don't care about your missing leg. I only care about you.” 

He stiffened as she came near his missing leg. He took a calming breath, then pushed at his pants. “Help me get these off?”


	6. I'll Follow

Marianne kept her movements slow and gentle, a little bit like she was dealing with a skittish animal. She didn't want Bog to be uncomfortable or to suddenly change his mind. She knew he would be hyper sensitive to her reactions, so she wanted to make sure she was careful. She loved him more than she could simply express with words or even actions and part of that love was acceptance. This was a big step in their relationship. Bog and Marianne were not simply having sex, but being deep enough in love that being naked, being intimate with each other and completely comfortable was extremely important to her and to him. 

She helped him take off his pants. Bog averted his eyes. He was ready for the disgust from Marianne, the shock. Knowing he was missing a leg and really seeing it...well, he was terrified. He knew she had “seen” it before, but not like this, this was—different. 

She could really see him as he was, naked, completely exposed to her, vulnerable. He realized how much he loved her, really loved her in that moment and he wasn't sure what he would do if she rejected him. He stayed still when her hand gently played over his hip. The scars were bad and he winced slightly when she touched him. The pain was there, but his focus remained on her, on the release she had given him made it bearable. Additionally, he was completely focused on what she was doing, her face, her eyes... 

“Oh, Bog.” She teared up. She had known about the pain, the scars, but seeing him. Seeing what he had endured etched in the flesh of his body, the fact that he was letting her be this close to him now, had finally let her see all of him, meant more to her than she felt that she could express. 

She reached forward grasping his face in both her hands. “You are the bravest man I know. I love you. I love you for your eyes, your mouth, your mind, your humor. I love you for the way you smile, the way you try not to laugh too loudly as if you are afraid of really laughing. I love the way your hair looks when you get out of the shower and the way you growl under your breath when you're angry. I love the way your accent gets thicker when you are annoyed and the way you kiss me, or lean your head against my shoulder.” 

Bog stared at her, his blue eyes slowly becoming filling with tears. “Marianne...I love you.” They fell into the kiss. She moved between his legs. He didn't flinch when her hips brushed against his missing leg; all he could think about was her, this beautiful, intelligent woman so full of life and fire who could have had anyone and who had chosen him. He was the luckiest man alive. He needed to let her know that, but his mouth was full with her tongue, her hands moving over his body in soft caresses. He held onto her, fingers stroking down the curve of her spine over her hips to hold her rear. 

Her skin was like silk, soft under his rough fingers. She made little sounds of pleasure. He could feel himself becoming hard again at the feel of her body, the sounds of want. He pushed her over, surprising himself and her as he rolled with the movement to lay on top of her. Her smile was radiant when he looked down at her. “Oh, Bog...” she murmured running her fingers down his face. He shifted his weight to his arms leaning to put most of it on his leg, but then he slowly lowered himself to his elbows his body pressing against hers. She didn't flinch, she didn't react at all to the limb missing. The only thing Marianne reacted to was his body against her, his touch and his mouth on her breasts. Her groan brought out more feelings he thought he had managed to push away, he wanted her so much that it was a physical pain in his groin. But first he wanted to make sure that she was fulfilled, just in case he wasn't “good” at this. 

Her brown eyes followed his progress down her body, lips brushing her stomach. Then the curls of her hair nestled over her sex. “Bog?” 

He smiled resting comfortable between her spread legs gazing at her. The woman was beatitude everywhere, every inch of her was gorgeous. She started to open her mouth, to tell him he didn't need to when his tongue slowly licked. It was the most sensual experience she had ever had just the simple lick of his tongue along her inner folds. Gasping, her hips rose to meet his tongue. Bog became more focused on tasting her, pleasuring her, his blue eyes glancing up as he watched each of her reactions to the movements of his tongue, teeth, lips learning what she enjoyed best until he had her writhing. She buried her fingers in his hair holding on as he brought her to orgasm, her first given to her by someone she loved. 

She cried out, “BOG!!” 

He shoved her legs up, leaning against one of her thighs for balance and buried his tongue inside her, tasting deeply, licking and fondling her with tongue and lips until she was sobbing with another climax. He found himself able to push the pain away, even the thought of his missing limb was not the most prevalent thing on his mind now. What consumed his thoughts was hearing her cry out his name. He shifted, nipping the inside of her thigh as he adjusted his weight and position to roll onto his back gathering her and pulling her with him. 

She laughed with a squeal when he yanked her around, but then she was moved to hold him so that she could lower herself down on him. Bog gasped as his erection was held in her warm wetness. 

Marianne dropped onto her hands leaning over him grinding her hips onto him, both of them gasping for breath. He reared up to capture her nipple sucking it into his mouth, fear and embarrassment forgotten as love and passion took over. 

Marianne pulled away from him, arching her back as another orgasm washed over her. Bog stared, shuddering as her body clamped around his flooding over him with her fluids. She was a goddess, everything about her in this moment, perfect as he watched and felt her come around him, over him and through him. Bog cried out, groaning loudly calling her name as he came, his hips lifting off the bed. “Oh, god, MARIANNE!” 

She dropped down wrapping her arms around him as he shuddered holding on tightly to her. His body racked with the pleasure of his second orgasm, the constant pain of his missing leg still there, but not foremost in his thoughts. He moaned holding on, both of them so overwhelmed that they started to cry holding each other. 

She whispered softly stroking his hair back from his face. “I love you so much.” 

Bog choked. He was embarrassed to be crying, but he couldn't help himself. “Will you marry me?” 

Marianne giggled. “Oh yes, Bog. Yes.” 

He smiled, tears running down his cheeks. “I love you, Marianne” 

* 

The next day they drove downtown into the city. There was a little mom and pop jewelry store that Bog wanted to take her to in order to look for an engagement ring. She had assured him she didn't need one, but he had pleaded with her. They had agreed on something small. One, for cost; Marianne didn't want Bog to think he had to compete with her family's fortune, and two; she preferred small. With a small impish grin, Marianne had said that she clearly also liked things were bigger than average, which made them both blush. 

They were inside the jewelry store looking at engagement rings. Bog was no help however, thinking each one looked beautiful on her finger, which made Marianne giggle and blush. The lady helping them could not get over how cute they were. Bog was walking with his fake leg, his mind not on it at all. He barely noticed it since all his attention was on Marianne. The pain was a constant reminder, always hovering on the edge and threatening to become sharp, more focused, but it was easier for him to deal with right now. With Marianne holding his hand, smiling into his eyes, he could deal with anything. So distracted by their ring shopping, he missed the phone call from the police station. 

Since Bog's accident had been a hit and run, it was still an open case. The police had been investigating what had happened during all this time. Bog had not paid too much attention; he had other worries, such as learning to walk minus one leg and trying to get his life back to a new normal. How the accident had happened was not something he thought about, especially since he remembered nothing about it. The only time that he seemed to think about the accident itself was in dreams that he didn't remember, just him waking up covered in sweat, the bed and sheets soaked through, shaking with Marianne wrapped around trying to calming him down. 

Now he had Marianne to think about, school again, getting his life back to a new sort of order. He had started just that morning to begin work on a novel about his experiences with the accident. Marianne had encouraged him, stating it was therapy and who knew who he would touch by sharing his story. Along with classes, Bog was going to work on his book. So the message sat on his phone unheard. 

* 

A few days later, Marianne set Bog's mother up in a small apartment for her and Plum so that they wouldn't be living in a hotel room. They were going to be staying in the states for the next year or so to help with wedding planning. They had decided to get married within the year so that Bog's mother and Aunt could attend. Marianne had called her sister to tell her she was engaged to Bog, which thrilled her sister to no end. Next was telling her father. So they were planning a big family dinner, Bog's family that was here and hers all meeting at a local restaurant. 

* 

Bog looked at himself in the mirror. He had a new prosthetic leg—it was sturdier and had a boot on the end that matched his other shoe. It was part of a gift from Marianne, who had had it commissioned for him secretly. She had been saving it for his birthday, but she gave it to him for an engagement gift. It was lighter than his hospital issue prosthetic and it fit better too, making wearing it more comfortable. 

He glanced over at her as she walked in wearing a short dress, her hair stuck out in her typical punky way, dark purple eyeshadow making her lovely eyes glow. She wore the present he had gotten for her, a silver chained necklace with a tiny light purple primrose made of pink diamonds. It wasn't much—rather small stones—but she had loved it. 

“So you think your father will like me?” Bog asked as Marianne ran her hands down his shoulders then reached up to cup his long face. 

“Yes.” 

He gave her a skeptical look that made her laugh. “Okay, probably not, but I don't think he would like anyone, but yes—I think he will like you.” She wrapped her arms around his waist holding him tightly. “I love you so much.” 

Bog wrapped his arms around her kissing the top of her head. “We're not moving too fast are we?” His voice sounded worried, but there was clearly a depth of emotion that said he hoped she didn't think so because he didn't, not really. 

She tightened her arms around his waist. “I don't think so. Besides, who's to say? Some people have a long time together and still end up apart. Others meet and after a couple of days are married for life.” She turned to lay her chin against his chest gazing up at him. “I love you, Bog. I want to be your wife.” 

He could not keep a grin from his face. Only she could get him to grin like a besotted idiot. 

“I love you too, Mrs. King-to-be.” She lifted up on her toes to kiss him. He returned the kiss with enough passion that she started to pull him back toward the bed. Bog chuckled as she got him down on his back, pulling her dress up to straddle him. “We're going to be late for dinner.” 

The grin she gave him was a mix of wicked and beautiful, her fingers moving to unzip his pants. “Well, we'll just have to be quick.” Bog started to say something else, but he was quickly unable to reply with actual words. 

* 

They walked into the restaurant about to ask for their table when a bright young blonde yelled, waving a hand at them. “Marianne!!!” She dashed over throwing herself at Marianne who caught the young woman hugging her tightly. 

“Dawn!” Then the young woman transferred her affections to Bog. He almost stumbled with her suddenly wrapped around him. “You must be Boggy!!!” She had his arms pressed to his sides, the small sunshiny bundle a lot stronger than she appeared. 

“Bog—and yer Dawn?” 

She grinned up at him. “Gosh. Marianne said you were tall! Wow, she wasn't kidding!” Taking his hand in one of hers and Marianne's in the other she started to pull them to the table. Bog had a bit of trouble with the fake leg, but Dawn, without a word adjusted her pulling to suit his gait. She obviously knew about his missing limb, but other than adjusting her tugging she didn't seem to care one bit. Soon they were sitting around a large table. Bog's mother and aunt were already there, Dawn was beside Bog, her boyfriend Sunny on her other side and the sisters' father at the head with Marianne on his left. Drinks and food were ordered and soon everyone was talking, though her father said very little. Finally, dessert was ordered and various coffee drinks. Marianne had leaned across the table putting her hand out so everyone could get a good look at her engagement ring. Her father, Dagda, looked down the table at Bog. “So son, what are you in school for exactly?” 

Bog glanced at Marianne before answering. “Actually, sir, my major is the same as Marianne's, literature. We both hope to teach, though Marianne has convinced me to write a novel.” Her father frowned. “A novel?” 

“Aye, one that deals with my experiences from the accident, but in a novel format to create some space between myself and the events.” Her father took a sip from his glass of wine. Bog had a beer he had been nursing all evening which he nervously took a sip from. Griselda looked ready to leap across the table and get into a good old brawl with Dagda, but Plum kept a hand on her sister. 

“Marianne also tells me you two have decided to get married rather soon.” He folded his hands over his belly, staring at the younger man. 

Bog took a breath. “Sir. I know we are both young, but I love yer daughter. She has been with me during one of the worst times of my life. She has encouraged me and yelled at me.” At this, Bog grinned glancing over to Marianne who blushed, but grinned in return. “She is my best friend and I love her. I plan on spending the rest of my life making her happy.” 

Dagda said nothing, but stared at the table for a long time until everyone was looking at one other. Marianne started to open her mouth to defend Bog when her father smiled. “I like that answer.” 

He looked at Bog with a serious expression. “Marianne seems happy, but the moment I think she is unhappy I will make sure you pay dearly for it. Are we clear?” 

Bog swallowed. “Aye, sir.” 

Dagda smiled again. “I like you much better than her last guy, Roland. He always rubbed me wrong.” 

Marianne looked shocked at this statement, but she didn't say anything, her attention on Bog grabbing his arm and holding it tightly in a hug. 

Dawn clapped. “Yes!! Now we need to plan on going wedding dress shopping!!!” 

Soon all the women were discussing when to drag Marianne off. She made a face like she was dying, but it was tempered by her happy smile. 

Sunny moved closer to Bog grinning. “Congrats man! You are really lucky. I've known Marianne since we were kids. When she hooked up with Roland I was pretty worried but I'm happy she found you instead.” 

Bog grinned. “Thank you.” 

“Dawn likes you too. Already gave you a nickname I heard, that means you are already part of the family.” 

Bog looked a little startled, but happy. Everything was changing for the better. 

* 

That night, lying in bed together, Bog picked up his phone. They were both lying naked in their bed having made love slowly and softly. She had her head nestled against his chest. She snuggled nibbling at his chest a little, her fingertips tracing the lines of a few scars on his body. Bog was going to use the phone to look up wedding dresses with Marianne when he finally noticed the message symbol. He frowned. “Who would leave me a message?” 

Marianne glanced up sleepily. “Who's it from?” 

Bog accessed it and then listened to the message. Marianne felt the change in him. “Bog?” 

“It's the police. They have evidence to suggest my accident wasn't an accident. That someone deliberately ran me over.”


	7. World So Cold

Marianne stared at him, her voice soft, a whisper of shock. “What?” 

Bog stared at the phone as if it might tell him more. 

“Someone did this to me deliberately.” He started to shake, his body trembling with shock. Marianne reached over and took the phone from him. She hit the repeat and listened to the message herself, her hand on Bog's chest. She swallowed her tears down and listened to the message more than once before she put the phone down on the beside table. She rolled over, wrapped her arms around Bog, and squeezed before she tugged him down to rest his head against her chest. 

He wrapped his arms around her middle. His voice broke when he spoke. 

“Why? Why would someone do this to me?” 

She held onto Bog tightly and protected him in the only way she knew how, with her presence. 

Within minutes, he seemed past the initial shock of the news, but his trembling became shudders of rage. He wanted to hit something, to beat his fists against the wall in frustration at the unfairness of it all. Marianne could sense his pain and his rage. She murmured against the top of his head and kissed his hair while she ran her fingers through his hair. She tried to calm him with caresses to his face and stroking his hair over his ear. “It's all right Bog. I'm here. I love you.” 

After a couple of minutes more, his breathing was less ragged, she could feel the tension draining from his body, his grip on her relaxing, but he muttered again. 

“Why would someone do this to me deliberately? What could I possibly have done to them?” 

“Do you have any enemies?” Marianne tightened her hold on him for a moment then continued the gentle stroking of his hair with the tips of her fingers. Bog ran his fingers up and down her side; where his arm was wrapped around her, the soothing gesture of touching her helped him calm down further. 

“No...I mean Roland hates my guts, but that's it...I think.” 

His brow was furrowed in thought. “I don't have a lot of friends, let alone enemies. I really didn't think anyone actually...HATED me...yeah maybe Roland but still...” 

Marianne was quiet as she stroked her fingers along Bog's neck and shoulders as she spoke softly. “Maybe...maybe it's best we don't know who did this. Who hit you.” 

“Why?” Bog's confused voice drifted up to her. 

“Because Bog...it won't change anything.” Marianne ran her fingertips along his sharp cheekbones. “It won't bring your leg back, it won't change what we have together...I don't want this...” 

She pointed between the two of them. “I don't want this to change. I love you. I want to focus on that...on becoming your wife...our wedding, our future together. Unless this person is a threat to that, I think we should just let the police do their work and we focus on our future.” 

Bog smiled then as he shifted his position and sat up in order to kiss her. His lips were tender, his tongue a gentle caress. He pulled back from her lips, brushing his sharply pointed nose against hers, and smiled. 

“You're right.” He nodded sagely and said, “You're always right, Marianne. I'll let the cops do their job, but I'm not going to focus on it. I don't want to live in the past...only the now. I can't wait to see you walking down the aisle toward me...my fairy princess.” 

Marianne smiled and that turned into a giggle. “Fairy princess?! Me?” 

Bog laughed. “Yes! Yer my fairy!” He started to tickle her which had Marianne squealing. “BOG!!” 

She rolled him onto his back and sat on him, pinning him down with her body and her bright grin. Bog pressed his teeth into his bottom lip with a playful grin, his eyes gazing over her naked body on top of him. 

“You know what? I know just what to do to make you forget about everything except right now.” 

Marianne waggled her eyebrows comically at him. Bog laughed at her. “No fair taking advantage of me! I'm missing a limb!” 

“No one said I played fair and don't you dare act like that puts you at a disadvantage Mr. King!” Marianne giggled as her hands brushed lightly down his chest. Bog grinned as he ran his hands up her thighs and gazed up at her. She started to rock her hips against him, feeling the quick hardening of him between her legs; his member was hot, burning between her legs. He immediately had her feeling wanton...driven to take him... 

“Mmm....” She hissed in pleasure as she closed her eyes. Bog watched her as she jerked and moaned softly. She felt hot and wet above him, rubbing herself along his length...all thoughts of police and his accident quickly drained away under her erotic attentions. Marianne smiled as she opened her eyes; her amber eyes glowed as she slid her hands down his torso, and moved herself lower, dragging her body across his shaft before she pressed herself between his thighs. She gazed up at him, licking her lips, her hands holding his member steady in her hands. She grinned at him and winked before she ran her tongue up the length of him, her tongue circling the head of his member before she brushed him across her lips. Bog groaned with a jerk of his hips as he raptly watched her. Marianne giggled and dragged her teeth along the tender skin, her tongue playing across the slit, flicking her tongue slowly back and forth. Bog arched his head back, his one leg jerking while he groaned loudly. 

“Marianne...” Her name was like a prayer on his lips when his head dropped back, feeling the soft, tender kisses of her lips running up his erection. Her breath was warm against his skin, her hand pressing his thighs wide apart, making him feel vulnerable, but that feeling was mixed with the feeling of surrender...letting himself be completely open with someone...with her...vulnerable both physically and emotionally. 

Marianne's fingers caressed the inner part of each thigh. The fact that she wasn't afraid to touch him...even with the missing part of his leg, did more to make Bog feel wanted than anything else that she did...her complete acceptance of him and his physical flaws...no wait...not flaws, she told him never to think of his missing leg as a flaw...just a difference... 

Marianne ran her tongue up the length of him again, enjoying the smooth texture of him against her tongue, while her hands stroked up and down his thighs and spread his legs wider before gliding her hands back up to grasp him with one hand, her lips brushing the satin smoothness of him, tracing her lips. She scooted back, moved lower to caress him even lower, cupping him so that she could run her tongue over the soft roundness. She hoped this didn't hurt him as she mouthed his testicles, her tongue taking gentle, hesitant licks while she cupped him tenderly. 

Bog shuddered and his eyes rolled backwards while he dug his fingers into the sheets over his head, his hips arching into her touch, groaning. 

“Aahh...Marianne...” 

She giggled. Clearly she was on the right track. She brushed her lips over him again and smiling at the difference in texture, of the way he stiffened went she squeezed, just barely, then ran her tongue over his balls again, sliding her lips over one, sucking very carefully and gently into her mouth. Bog jerked with a loud groan. 

“Oh, damn Marianne!” 

She giggled and the warm vibration sent shivers along his shaft that had him gasping for breath while the fingers of one hand reached down to caress her hair. He lifted up just enough to watch her. She still held him with one hand, carefully pushing his erection forward while her warm, soft lips and tongue sucked on his testicles, while her hand grasping him was moving up and down, not quite in time with her sucking, but pretty darn close. 

While watching the woman he loved exploring down further, she glanced up, her eyes meeting his...Bog cried out. 

“Oh GOD Marianne!” 

His body jerked and she caused him to cum just a little. For a moment he was upset, but she only grinned wider, leaning forward to take him into her mouth fully. Bog whimpered, watching the way she bobbed her heard up and down, the hollowing of her cheeks, the pull of her lips...the way she looked with him in her mouth. Bog dropped his head back against the bed, his legs jerking when she sucked particularly hard on him. Her tongue played along him in a series of quick flicks and twitches that had her lover jerking, grunting and whimpering. 

She sat up with a grin. “Bog, grab a condom from the drawer!” 

Bog looked down at her for a moment confused...words? What were words? Marianne giggled and pointed at the bedside table. “Condom.” 

“Oh yeah...” Bog breathlessly leaned over to yank the drawer open and pull out a condom which Marianne swiftly snagged from him. She had it on him in record time. 

Giggling, she crawled on top of him and straddled his waist, her brown eyes soft yet cheerful. “I love you Bog.” 

Bog grinned knowing he probably looked stupid, but he reached up, dragging both hands down her arms in a soft caress. “You are beautiful...I love you.” 

Marianne shifted back, holding him for a moment as she adjusted herself over him; Bog's body tensed just before she slid down on him, the two of them sharing a groan of pleasure at the moment their bodies became one. 

Marianne ran her hands up and down his chest, over his stomach, her hips rocking in slow undulating waves. She dug her fingers into his chest for a moment, not enough to really hurt him; just enough to let him feel her before she grabbed his wrists and yanked his hands over his head. She smiled down at him. “I love you...I love you...” 

Bog moaned “I love you Marianne...my Marianne...” 

Marianne arched her back, pressing her hips down firmly and grinding herself against him. 

“Bog...” she moaned his name, feeling the way just saying his name sent her heart racing, her fingers dug into his wrists while her body rode hard on him. Each time they made love it was like a reaffirmation of their feelings. It was a chance for her to show him her love where words failed her. She tightened her thighs around him and rolled her hips when Bog bucked. 

Marianne gasped, her eyes going wide as she stopped what she was doing. “Did I hurt you?” 

Bog's answering grin was wicked. “Nope.” 

He bucked again, but this time he used his hips to jerk her to the side rolling her over and breaking her hold on his wrists. Marianne squeaked in surprise as Bog rolled on top of her with a crooked grin. He leaned down on his arms, brushing her nose with his, lips tenderly brushing and nipping hers. 

“My wife...you are going to be my wife...” he whispered. “My wife.” 

Marianne smiled as her hands stroked along his chest feeling the texture of the hair that was littered sparsely across his chest, then lower along his stomach. Her fingertips trailed up his sides and down again as she whispered. 

“You are going to be my husband.” 

They both grinned and rubbed their noses together. Bog's eyes danced. His smile is gorgeous, Marianne thought, her fingertips reaching up to stroke his cheeks. “I love you so much Bog.” 

Bog purred. “You saved me, you know that? You saved me Marianne. Not just my life, but my soul. Telling you I love you, it doesn't encompass how I feel about you. I am in love with you, with everything about you. Everything...” He covered her mouth with his, kissing her deeply, his tongue dancing across hers at the same time that his hips started to move again, their bodies rolling together as one. 

Marianne moaned. Feeling him so deep inside her, the ripples of pleasure from the connection of their bodies, to the intimate connection of their souls...her mind couldn't form the words she wanted to express how much she loved him. 

Marianne wrapped one leg around his hip, her other around the thigh of his missing leg, but Bog didn't jerk away from her. He didn't stop moving, didn't try to pull away, instead the thrusting of his hips intensified, his kisses becoming more intimate as if he needed her breath for him to continue breathing. Marianne dug her nails into his back as she held on, her mind and body spiraling out of her control as her orgasm washed over her in a warm wave. 

Bog shifted his hands under her to cradle her head, his thrusting pelvis hitting her deeper, only just barely pulling back to thrust again. 

Bog moaned. “Marianne...Marianne...” 

Marianne smiled brushing her lips against his lips, his nose, his cheeks. “Bog...my Bog..” 

Together they peaked, their moans mixing together. They pressed hard against one another not wanting there to be any space between them. 

Marianne started to cry softly. “I love you, Bog...I love you so much.” 

Bog cradled her close kissing her tears. “I love you Marianne...forever and a day.” 

* 

It was early afternoon the next day. Marianne was making herself a snack, the sounds of Bog at his computer writing were the only sounds in the apartment at the moment. He had his headphones on, listening to music while he worked. They had set up his desk by the window which was letting in a soft beam of natural light. His crutches leaned against the window and he was tapping his foot in time to whatever he was listening to as he wrote. She smiled as she watch him for a moment from the apartment's small kitchen. He was wearing a pair of jeans that hugged his hips in a way that should be illegal the way they drew here gaze in. She giggled as her eyes traveled upward following the change in fabric to his t-shirt, when her cellphone started playing the tune of “Walking on Sunshine” which meant it was Dawn calling. 

Marianne leaned on the counter as she pick up the phone. “Hey Dawn.” 

“Marianne, are you free?” Dawn sounded excited. 

“Yeah, why?” Marianne took a sip from the glass of juice she had poured herself as she watched Bog. She loved to watch him while he wrote. He moved to the music in his seat as his fingers flew across the keyboard, completely unaware of anything. But the best part was that he sang as he wrote. He had such a quality to his voice, warm...sometimes it felt to her as if words rolled from his lips, forming into warm drops of honey that dribbled down her skin to give her goosebumps. His accent would curl around some of the words in such a way...she shivered in pleasure; she adored his accent. Right now he was singing low, unaware that he was actually singing rather loudly. She recognized the song from Paul McCartney's solo band: Wings. 

He was tapping his foot while he typed and sang. 

* 

“You'd think that people would have had enough of silly love songs 

I look around me and I see it isn't so 

Some people want to fill the world with silly love songs 

And what's wrong with that 

I'd like to know 

'Cause here I go again 

I love you, I love you 

I love you, I love you 

I can't explain the feeling's plain to me, can't you see 

Ah, she gave me more, she gave it all to me now can't you see 

What's wrong with that 

I need to know 

'Cause here I go again 

I love you, I love you 

* 

“I have Griselda and Plum here and we want to take you to lunch and go dress shopping!” Dawn giggled excitedly. 

Marianne choked on her juice having to spit it back into the glass before she could answer. “What? Really?” 

“Yeah! I thought it would be fun and I called Bog's mom...unless...” Dawn's voice immediately lost it's cheer. “Was I wrong?” 

Marianne smiled. “No, no, that sounds great! Just give me half an hour to get ready okay?” 

“No problem! See ya soon sis!” Dawn hung up. Marianne pressed her lips together in a happy grin. Wedding dress shopping...she was getting married. She wasn't the type of be giddy, but...she was giddy. 

She glanced toward Bog who was singing and typing and a grin spread across her face. She walked up behind him and stopped close enough that if he leaned back, his head would bump into her. He was really “grooving to the song” as his fingers few across the keyboard and he tapped his foot, singing beautifully even without any music that Marianne could hear. 

* 

“Love doesn't come in a minute 

Sometimes it doesn't come at all 

I only know that when I'm in it 

It isn't silly, love isn't silly, love isn't silly at all 

How can I tell you about my loved one...” 

* 

She gently placed a hand on Bog's shoulder so as not to startle him. Bog jumped a foot anyway, then let out a breath, leaning back, his head touching her stomach, to look up at up at her with a smile as he tugged his ear-buds out. 

“Hey.” He reached over to take her hand and kiss her fingers. 

Marianne smiled. “My sister just called. She has your mother and aunt with her, they want to take me dress shopping.” 

Bog grinned as he lifted his brow at her. “Dress shopping eh?” 

Marianne's cheeks turned crimson. “Yeah. Wedding dress shopping.” 

Bog kissed her fingers again, a soft blush of red creeping across his sharp features. “Sounds fun.” 

“Will you be all right by yourself?” Marianne asked, causing Bog to laugh. “Yes, I'll be fine. Maybe when you get back we can settle on a date.” He waggled his eyebrows at her. 

Marianne leaned down pressing her lips to his ear whispering. “I love you.” She cupped his face with her hands and kissed him profoundly. Bog moaned softly and reached up to place his hands on the sides of her neck as she bent over him. 

When they finally pulled away from each other Bog smiled. “Have a good time.” 

Marianne rubbed her nose against his. “I'm going to fix you something to eat before I go—you better eat it while I'm gone.” 

Bog laughed. “Yes dear.” 

Marianne bumped him in the shoulder with her hip and giggled before she walked back to their small kitchen to make her guy something to eat, because goodness knows she couldn't trust him to feed himself. Marianne pressed her lips together in a smile. 

* 

Lunch was fun. 

Griselda was driving a rental car, having just figured out how to properly drive like an American. When Marianne had come out to the car and saw them, Griselda was waving enthusiastically and grinning brightly. 

“Get in burd! We're going shopping!” 

Marianne felt a cross between excitement and a little bit of fear as she hopped into the car next to her sister. 

Pleased with herself, Griselda wanted to show off to her future daughter-in-law by being the one to drive them around. She managed to get them downtown without incident. Griselda took them to an Italian restaurant she had found on the internet that had received good reviews. She had the directions written down and with a little help from the sisters, she managed to get them all there in one piece. 

The restaurant was located in a small, out of the way place in the downtown region. It was situated in such a weird little area that if the four of them hadn't been looking for it they would never have found it. The place was small, or at least at first it had seemed small, but when they were escorted past the front tables and led deeper into the building, the ladies discovered that the restaurant had a courtyard where there was additional seating that also allowed them to eat outside. The courtyard had boxed trees, huge clay flowerpots filled to overflowing with colorful flowers and several Roman-style statues. The seating out here was more informal, reminding Marianne of a back porch dining area, but there was also the flavor of eating in an Italian garden. She thought it was lovely. 

They were seated and given a few minutes to examine the menus before ordering. Soon though the women were waiting for their food, sipping some wine and chattering. 

After a few minutes, Griselda pulled up her purse and set the large bag on her lap. Marianne had noticed the unusual size of the bag; it was more like a messenger bag than a purse. Griselda grinned. 

“I brought us some research materials to look over while we eat,” she explained. 

Then she began to pull out several thick bridal magazines. 

Dawn squealed. “Wow! Look at them all!!” She picked one up and started to flip through it. “Wowzers, so many pretty dresses!! Marianne, how are you ever going to pick?” Marianne swallowed. She looked at the pile of magazines, her eyes widening a little as she began to feel a little overwhelmed. A wedding dress...it just...a moment of... “Oh hell, I'm getting married,” Marianne whispered in shock as the idea seemed to settle around her. 

Marianne had thought when she finally decided to marry, that her mother would be here, but that dream had ended a few years back and here she was...about to do just that—marry the most wonderful man in the world and her mother was gone. Marianne pressed her lips together, biting the inside of her cheek, trying not to let herself become emotional. She had dealt with her pain a long time ago. Why was she becoming upset? This was a fun day...the day she might find her wedding dress and she didn't want to ruin it with tears. 

Griselda had just picked up one of the magazines, starting to leaf through it speaking without looking up. 

“Do you have any idea what kind of dress you want Marianne? Sleeveless, mermaid, ballgown, Disney princess?” Griselda made a few faces when she stopped at particular pages, her expressions clearly showing her impressions of certain dresses. 

Plum picked up one of the magazines, laying the heavy book open on the table in front of her. 

“Geez, some of these are amazing!” 

Marianne continued to stare at the pile of magazines, fighting back tears until Dawn leaned over and waved her hand in front of her sister's face. “Hey, Marianne, you okay?” 

Marianne blinked, turning to look at her sister, her eyes bloodshot. Dawn frowned. “Marianne?” 

Marianne stared at her sister then turned to look at Bog's mother and aunt. “I just...I have no idea where to start...I just...” 

Griselda set the magazine down and reached across the table to lay her hand over Marianne's. 

“It's all right. I'm so sorry dear. I didn't mean to overwhelm you.” 

Marianne frowned, her brow creasing, then looked up at Griselda, her eyes brimming with tears. Griselda stared at her for a moment, reading the emotions in the younger woman's face, then quickly stood up to wrap her arms around Marianne. “Oh honey. You miss your mom don't you?” 

Marianne nodded. “I—it's been so long...I thought I was fine.” 

Dawn's bottom lip started to tremble too as she reached over and took her sister's hand in hers. “Oh Marianne...” 

Griselda stepped behind Marianne. “Sweetie. You're getting married. Every girl would like to be dress shopping with her mother. I know I can't take her place, but I hope I can at least make this a happy experience for you.” Griselda hugged Marianne tightly from behind, which started Marianne crying. 

“You are so wonderful! I really couldn't ask for better future mother-in-law.” 

Griselda smiled, her eyes brimming with tears as well. Plum started to wipe her eyes with a hand and reached over to taking Dawn's hand in her other one. 

Griselda smiled. “Your mother would be so proud of the two of you. You are both beautiful girls and she would be happy to know you are marrying a great guy...even if I say so myself.” Griselda laughed softly. 

Marianne laughed too. “Bog is wonderful! Not only am I getting a wonderful man as my husband, but I'm getting a wonderful mother-in-law and an aunt who rocks!” 

Plum giggled. “All right ladies, we are going to eat too much great pasta and order some gelato and then—after we have eaten too much—we are going dress shopping.” 

Marianne laughed and wiped her eyes. “Eating too much, then trying on dresses sounds counterproductive.” 

Plum laughed and waved Marianne's concern away. “Honey, as tiny as you are, it will make no difference at all.” 

* 

After lunch the four of them walked downtown, not just to walk off their lunch, but they were heading to a bridal shop that Plum had seen on the way to the restaurant. The shop, “Spring Flowers Bridal” was small, but when they stepped inside, Marianne immediately fell in love with the place. The décor was done in soft off whites, light beige and mellow pinks. The whole place was comfortable, with plush chairs and couches and somehow the shop managed to smell like fresh cut flowers even though Marianne didn't actually see any fresh flowers. The lady who owned the shop, a tall woman with thick black hair and vividly green eyes, stepped up to them with a bright smile. 

“Hello, and how can I help you ladies today?” 

Griselda pushed Marianne forward with a smile. “This is our bride and we are looking for the perfect dress, but one we can get in a matter of weeks instead of months.” 

The woman stepped forward and took Marianne's hands in hers. “You ladies have come to the right shop! My name is a Elizabeth Lizzard, but you can call me Lizzie and I can perform miracles! So...” 

Marianne blushed. “Marianne.” 

“Marianne, do you know what you're looking for in a dress?” Lizzie wrapped Marianne's arm around hers as she led her and the others into the racks of dresses, a virtual sea of white in a dozen different fabrics and several different shades with a smattering of dresses in colors such as champagne, pink and even blue. 

Marianne swallowed and then laughed nervously. “I have no idea what I want in a dress.” 

Lizzie grinned. “My dear, that's perfect! It means you are open to all sorts of styles! And lucky for you, you have a killer figure!” 

Lizzie glanced over at the other three women. “Who have you brought with you today?” 

Marianne turned. “This is my sister.” Dawn gave a little wave. 

“My mother-in-law to be and her sister.” The two older women smiled. 

Lizzie grinned. “Just perfect! Why don't all of you pick out a dress that you would like to see her try on and I will pick out a couple that I think will look good on you...that will be a place to start and it will allow you to start getting a feel for what you want. We can also talk price point.” 

Marianne grinned. “Thank you.” 

Lizzie laughed. “It's what I do dear!” 

* 

Soon Marianne was in the dressing room with Dawn. Marianne had just stepped into her first dress, held it up against her chest and gazed at herself in the mirror. This dress was the one that Griselda had picked out for her and Marianne's breath was taken away by how perfect the dress was for her. The lightweight dress was a lovely tiered chiffon, A-line, the strapless sweetheart bodice was crafted of corded lace and sprinkled with sequin. Dawn zipped up the back as Marianne stared at herself in the mirror. The damn dress even fit perfectly! It was as if this dress was meant to be hers. 

“Is it possible to find the right dress with the first one?” Marianne turned one way then the other watching the way the chiffon moved. “I look like a fairy princess,” Marianne said her voice slightly hushed with awe. 

Dawn stared at her sister in wonder. “I know what you mean. Try on the other dresses, but...wow, Griselda hit the jackpot. I can see you walking down the aisle in that dress.” 

Marianne turned to look at her sister, grinning from ear to ear. “It's perfect!” 

The sisters squealed and hugged before Dawn pushed the door open in order to shove her sister out of the dressing room. 

Griselda and Plum where sitting next to each other in a couple of high back chairs, each with a glass of champagne and talking when Marianne stepped out. The two women stared. 

Plum whispered. “Oh...wow...” 

Griselda's eyes lit up as she brought her hands to her mouth. “Oh Marianne honey!” 

Marianne smiled as she performed a little twirl while holding the sides of her gown. “I know!! It's...it's perfect!” 

Dawn was giggling with tears in her eyes. “Oh Marianne! You're getting married!!” Dawn clapped her hands together with a tiny squeal of delight. 

Marianne swallowed, tears immediately springing to her eyes. “Oh Dawn...I am!” 

There was a moment of the four women hugging and laughing, until Marianne finally pulled away carefully wiping her eyes. “All right, I've spent far too much time crying today already! Okay okay...seriously. This dress...I mean, Dawn says I should try on the others just to be sure, but...Griselda...I think this is the one.” 

Griselda smiled as she wiped away tears with a tissue she pulled from her purse. “Oh sweetheart...you...Thank you. Not for liking the dress. I mean that's wonderful, but thank you...for Bog. You...I'm just so happy that my boy found someone like you to bring into our tiny family.” 

The older woman gave Marianne a nearly bone-crushing hug. 

“Thank you for accepting me,” Marianne whispered, squeezing the older woman tightly. 

Griselda laughed. “All right well...I wanted to tell you that I didn't want you to worry about the price of the dress you pick either...Plum and I have decided that we are buying it for you.” 

Marianne blinked. “What? Oh God I hadn't even thought about the cost!! But you can't...” 

Griselda and Plum both gave Marianne a “look” that challenged her to fight them on this. 

“Marianne...this is our gift to you and Bog. We are buying the dress. No arguing.” Griselda put her hands on her hips and Plum giggled. “Scots are stubborn honey—you are going to lose.” 

Marianne laughed and wrapped her arms around them both. 

* 

Marianne tried on five other dresses, but the first one was “The One.” Griselda and Plum together paid for the dress right then and Marianne was scheduled to come back in two weeks for a fitting, but the dress would be ready for her next month; basically anytime next month she and Bog could get married. 

Marianne was walking along the sidewalk, (well, more like she felt as if she were floating down the sidewalk), still trying to process the idea that she had her dress and she was going to be marrying Bog. Mrs. Marianne King...or maybe she could hyphenate her name? She hadn't really given it any thought. Marianne's thoughts were distracted with thinking of her married name. 

She knew her face would ache from smiling today. 

Griselda was asking Marianne about bridesmaids when Marianne spotted someone coming out of a shop up ahead of her. At first she hadn't really paid attention, but then something about the way the person moved bothered her. And then the person turned and started walking straight down the sidewalk toward them, blonde hair, an arrogant stride, and then Marianne saw his face. It was Roland. 

When Marianne saw him, something in her snapped. Now if this “something” hadn't snapped, Marianne would not have done what she was about to do. It would not have occurred to her to do anything but ignore him, but something did snap. Before she was aware of her body moving, Marianne had rushed up to Roland. 

There was a moment of him staring at her in surprise, his green eyes widening just before Marianne's hand shot up and slapped him across the face. But no, she wasn't happy with just that...her body and mind were working together, though Marianne was only dimly aware of her own actions. She shoved Roland up against the side of the building, pressing him against the display window of some poor shop owner and she hit him again, but this time, with her fist.


	8. Letting It Go

Roland made the most awful squeaking noise while Marianne hit him. He had his arms raised up, trying to protect his face while Marianne's fists assaulted him with little chance of letting up, but otherwise he was not doing anything to defend himself. Roland let her hit him, let her continue her assualt without a word except for the incomprehensiable squeaks and the occassional yelps of pain. 

Marianne attacked him with everything she had, striking him over and over with her hands, then her fists, shouting at him while she did until she wasn't shouting words, just her rage and pain. Tears started to flow down her cheeks while her anger turned to pain and her pain into a deep gnawing hopelessness because even as she was hitting Roland, she knew nothing could change what had happened to Bog. She could be angry all she wanted; nothing could turn back the clock. 

Marainne's mind yelled at her. That was what made this all the worse! It would never matter what they did or didn't do to Roland, it could never take back what had happened to Bog, what Bog had suffered, and she hated Roland all the more for it. He had taken something from Bog that could never be replaced, never. Roland's actions had forced Bog to go through something horrible, life-changing, there was no measurement to the amount of pain Bog had endured because Roland was a selfish shithead! There was nothing that Roland could do to fix any of it...and her anger couldn't fix any of it...nothing could fix what had happened; and that was when she started to lose her steam, her anger fading to plain sadness. 

Marianne snarled. “You fucking selfish, self-centered asshole!! Did you know what was going to happen!!?? Did you??!! Did you even think? Were you trying to kill him?!” Just when she thought she was done, that her anger was spent, Marianne swung her fists at him again, not caring if she actually hit him, just needing a focus for all her bubbling anger, until someone grabbed her arms and hauled her back. Marianne struggled, but not with any real effort. She finally just gave up, all the strength leaving her body and she sagged into Griselda's arms. Griselda released Marianne, turning her around in her arms and held the young woman tight against her. “It's all right, it's all right,” she said in that soothing tone of voice only a mother seemed to be able to conjure at just the right time. 

She heard someone yelling her name as a gut-wrenching sob escaped her lips. She screwed her eyes closed, pressing her face against Griselda's shoulder while she heard her name. 

“MARIANNE!! MARIANNE!!” The voice was filled with fear and tears...Marianne realized that it was the panicked voice of her sister calling her. 

Marianne had drawn quite a crowd by the time Dawn and Griselda had managed to stop her assault on Roland. Even though she had stopped attacking him, Marianne was practically hissing through her teeth, when she let go of Griselda and turned around to face Roland once more, using the remnants of her anger to force the sadness back down until she was ready to deal with it. 

Roland had fallen to his knees covering his head. Marianne glared down at him, despite the tears running down her cheeks, there was a look of complete hatred in her brown eyes. 

“How could you Roland!!! How could you!” She snarled as Griselda held her back, a hand gently holding her shoulder. Marianne's little sister wrapped her arms around her middle and hugged her, scared to see her big sister acting so out of character. Marianne heaved a deep breath before letting it go, fresh tears running down her cheeks. Griselda let her go and Marianne wrapped her arms around Dawn. 

“I'm sorry I'm sorry!!” Roland was crying, pleading. 

Plum walked over and lifted Roland to his feet sharing a glance with Griselda. Griselda eased Marianne out of her sister's arms, taking Marianne by her shoulders and stared into her eyes. “Marianne, what is going on here? Why did you attack this young man?” 

Marianne pointed at Roland. “He's the reason Bog lost his leg!!” 

Griselda went very still. “What?” 

Marianne swallowed, tears were continuing to run down her cheeks despite how angry she looked or her furious wiping at them with the heel of her hand. “The police called and said that Bog's accident wasn't an accident at all! That someone caused it!! On purpose, and I know it was you Roland!! I know it!” 

Dawn pulled her sister into her arms again cooing softly. “It's okay Marianne, it's okay.” 

Roland stared at her then, his bottom lip began to tremble and to her surprise, he nodded. “It was me.” 

All the women turned to stare at him and the crowd that had gathered stared at him. Marianne narrowed her eyes. She had known deep down it was Roland, but to hear him actually confess it surprised her and only caused a fresh well of tears to spring to her eyes. All of this, all the pain that Bog went through because of Roland being jealous. Griselda turned to Roland. The older woman moved so quickly that no one knew what was happening until it was over. Griselda slapped him across the face. It was more than simply a slap, her gesture held pain and a mother's rage at her only child being hurt, the smart snap of her hand meeting his cheek seemed to echo. Roland's head snapped to the side and he gasped in pain, but surprisingly he didn't run away, he didn't attack back, he didn't plead or beg. Roland simply closed his eyes. 

His voice was soft when he spoke, but Marianne could tell he meant what he was saying. “I'm sorry Marianne. I didn't...I didn't mean for the accident...I just wanted to scare him. I was angry, jealous...I swerved thinking I would just scared the hell out of him, but I...I lost control and hit his bike...I never intended...and when I realized what I had done—I ran. I left him on the road bleeding and ran. I won't ask you to forgive me Marianne. But I am sorry. More sorry than you'll ever know Marianne.” 

Marianne glared, tears continuing to run down her cheeks. 

Roland started to cry too. “I never meant for any of this to happen Marianne. Believe me, please.” 

Marianne stepped forward from her sister's grasp; Dawn reluctantly let go of her sister. Marianne poked Roland in the chest. “Then turn yourself in Roland. You go and tell the police everything.” 

Someone in the crowd shouted out. “I'm filming!! I have his confession!” 

Plum stepped away from the young man looking sad and disgusted. Griselda, who was shaking, turned and put her arm around Marianne shoulders. “Come on honey, let's go...” 

Marianne gave Roland one last withering look before she left with her family. 

* 

Marianne invited everyone over to the apartment on the way home, but Griselda had simply patted her knee. “I'll be all right honey. I think you and Bog will just need some time alone to sort through this, all right?” 

Aura smiled. “I'll take good care of old Griselda here.” 

“Who you calling old?!” Griselda laughed and elbowed Aura. Dawn hugged her sister. “You just go spend time with Bog, think about your wedding dress and how handsome he is going to look waiting for you at the end of aisle, if you can wrestle him into a tux.” 

Marianne kissed her sister on the cheek, then Griselda and Aura. “You guys are the greatest.” 

Griselda grinned. “We are a very exclusive club of the greatest women on earth and I'm the president.” 

Everyone in the car laughed the rest of the way home. 

* 

When Marianne arrived home, she opened the apartment door, slipped inside and tossed her keys into the bowl sitting on the little black table by the door. It was later than she thought. They had all decided to stop over at a fast food restaurant and grab milkshakes, spending a little time in a booth just gabbing about nothing of consequence, but it had been a nice way to let the intensity of her emotions simmer down before heading back home to Bog. 

Marianne could hear the sounds of the TV playing in the living room, a dull drone without being able to hear what was being said. It wasn't particularly late, but it was dark out already. As fall came closer, the sun was setting noticeably earlier. Marianne dropped her purse by the table too, kicking off her shoes before she walked into the living room in her socks. Marianne stopped in the little doorway smiling. Bog was on the couch looking like he had melted, asleep. His crutches were leaning against the opposite end and his prothestic was nowhere to be seen. He was wearing a pair of boxers with the black band, in a deep forest green and dark blue plaid. His t-shirt was one she had picked up for him, a blue that was close to the same shade as his eyes that read across the front “I want you to know someone cares, Not me, but someone.” His dark hair was slightly damp; clearly he had showered. She glanced at the TV, some old black and white horror movie was playing. 

Marianne stood there just watching him for a few seconds. His head was lying back against the arm rest, his left leg was stretched out off the couch, along with is left arm, the right was leaning against the back of the couch, right hand in the air and his other leg was on the couch. She giggled again at her first assessment which was he looked as if he had melted. Marianne came over and sat down, lifting up his thigh and placing the amputated limb on her lap, scooting closer to him. Bog mumbled then his head popped up. His dark hair was a mess, he had clearly been running his fingers through it and his blue eyes still had that sleepy look, but his grin was bright when he saw her. 

“Hey, you're home!” 

Marianne smiled as Bog righted himself. As soon as he was sitting up she snuggled in against his side wrapping her arms around his middle. Bog smiled content, and put his arm around her shoulders. “So how was shopping?” 

“It was good until it wasn't,” Marianne said with a sigh rubbing her hand across his stomach, feeling the soft fabric of his t-shirt absently, pressing her head against his chest, her eyes closed. Bog leaned back to give her a quizzical look at the top of her head. Marianne sighed. She didn't need to look up to tell he was gazing down at her. 

“I ran into Roland,” she said quietly. 

Bog frowned settling back, dropping his head back against the couch, gazing up at the ceiling. “Oh.” 

“I attacked him,” Marianne added softly. 

Bog blinked in surprise, but he didn't move his head as he frowned with a furrowing of his brow. “You attacked him?” 

“Yeah. I...I punched him. A lot,” Marianne explained softly, then she grinned when she felt Bog's body jerk with laughter. 

“You did what?” Bog said with laugh. 

Marianne sat up to look at him. “I hit him, in the face, a lot. I just...” She sighed. “I saw him and remembered the cops calling...and I just knew it was him and...I just I went a little...crazy. But...he confessed. He said he wasn't trying to hurt you. Just scare you and he lost control...and, well...” 

Bog had gone very still while she was speaking. She could see an unidentifiable expression settle over his features. 

“He confessed, to...to accidentally crippling me.” Bog said it slowly. 

“Yes.” Marianne said softly. “Someone said they got his confession on their phone...I was so angry I didn't even think to ask them to send it to me...or the police...or...I just, all I could think about was how it didn't matter because it wouldn't change anything. You would still not have your leg, you still have had to go through everything. I just...knowing for sure now seems so...pointless.” 

Bog surprised her when he reached over and caressed her face with the tips of his fingers. “It's not pointless, none of it's pointless because despite it all, you are sitting here beside me. You are going to be my wife. All of it, the pain, the loss...every bit was worth it because it brought me to right now, right here, with you.” 

Marianne beamed at him reaching over to cup his long, narrow face and kiss him. She gazed into his eyes with a whispered, “I love you.” 

Bog tugged her closer until she straddled his lap, the thin fabric of his boxers telegraphing his desire. “No more talk of Roland or what coulda, shoulda...I want to focus on right now and the gorgeous dynamic woman who is causing a hole to burn in my....” 

Marianne laughed and pressed a finger to his lips. “Don't say it!” She giggled. 

Bog's smile was wicked, his blue eyes dancing. She pressed her finger more firmly against his lips, adding another finger for emphasis. 

Bog grinned against her fingertips and whispered seductively. “Crotch.” 

Marianne burst out laughing. 

Bog laughed and wrapped his hands around her tugging her close to him. “I love you Marianne. I love you! I love you! I love you!” Bog wiggled, holding her close against him, his face pressed to her breasts so that she could feel his hot breath through her shirt. 

Marianne wrapped her arms around his head, helping to bury his face between her cleavage for a moment before she leaned back and dived in for a deep passionate kiss, capturing his mouth with her own, her tongue slipping between his lips. Bog made a soft moan, arching his neck to receive her kiss, his hands sliding under her top, caressing the warm silk of her skin at the same time. Marianne chuckled against his mouth. His hands were slightly rough against her skin. She loved it, loved the way he spread his fingers wide as if trying to touch as much of her as possible. Marianne made a little growl in the back of her throat as she dragged her hands through his hair, grabbing handfuls of his thick dark locks, holding his head back while she attacked his mouth with more determination, more need. Her teeth nipped gently at his curved lips and tongue while she thrust her hips against him feeling his growing hardness between her legs. Bog made a little whine-grunt when she pressed down against him. 

Marianne growled and rolled her hips against his erection to demonstrate the sincerity behind her words. “I want you Bog, I want you so much.” 

Bog grinned giving a little upward thrust of his hips. “I want you my Marianne.” 

She let go of his hair and sat back just a little, reaching down to grab the ends of her shirt, pulling her top over her head. Bog reached around, and with his long agile fingers, he had her bra unhooked and sliding down her arms to join her top on the floor within the same couple of heartbeats. 

Bog stared at her breasts for a moment like a starving man, his eyes roaming over her torso. He reached out and dragged the back of his fingers along her sides feeling the satin softness of her skin. Marianne shivered with delight just before she scooted back off his lap. 

She stood up and proceeded to undo her jeans, slipped them down her legs, taking her panties and socks with them. Bog licked his lips as he watched her, his blue eyes taking in every detail of her figure, her movements, the way the light from the television danced across her pale skin, the shadows caressing her athletic curves. Bog just wanted to fall into her, to feel every inch of her skin against him, to run his hands over her, touch every inch of her. Marianne grinned at him biting her bottom lip with her teeth with a coy gleam in her eyes. She leaned over to grab the band of his boxers, giving them a little tug, catching the tip of her tongue between her teeth. Bog pushed down on the couch cushions with his hands, raising his hips so Marianne could tug the boxers off of him, dropping them at his ankle. While Marianne was staring at him, Bog reached behind him, grabbing his t-shirt and tugging it over his head before tossing it somewhere in the room. Marianne pressed her lips together, her eyes dragged down his lean torso, hovering at his hips to grin at his erection; her body ached to feel him inside her. 

Marianne dragged her teeth over her bottom lip with a smile, her eyes traveling over his body in such a way that she looked for all the world like she wanted to eat him. Bog put his hands out to her in invitation. Marianne took his hands, letting him tug her slowly back onto his lap. 

Marianne crawled onto his lap, holding Bog's hands. He watched her bringing one hand up to his lips and kissed her knuckles, which made her giggle. Once she was settled on his lap, feeling the heat of his erection between her legs, she dropped his hands to run her fingers along his throat, then up to his jaw. She cupped his face with her hands, gazing down into his endless blue eyes becoming lost in the emotions she saw there. Marianne whispered again, “I love you Bog.” 

She smiled, leaning forward to caress his lips with her tongue and mouth. Bog rolled his eyes closed with a groan, her lips and tongue burned across his skin sending shivers through his very core. Bog brought his hands up from her hips, flowing up her back in a slow, tender caress following the curve of her spine. One hand glided around to her side, his thumb caressing over her ribcage teasing both himself and her by caressing the swell of her breast. 

Marianne shivered dragging her teeth over the stubble of his chin while his hand moved higher, following the curve of her breast with the back of his thumb, before he wrapped his entire hand over her breast and caressed the soft weight in his hand. He squeezed gently before his thumb caught her nipple, the pad of his thumb stroking over the sensitive flesh. 

Marianne groaned, her body arching into his touch, the sensation of his thumb brushing her nipple sent ripples straight to her groin, making her tighten with want. Bog moved his mouth away from hers to lean down to her breast, squeezing the soft mound up, his tongue seeking her nipple. Bog tugged her closer, wrapping his other arm around her waist, pulling her flush against him, sucking her nipple into his mouth. 

Marianne made a tiny groan, her fingers sliding along his scalp. Bog wrapped a long-fingered hand around her hip, his arm pressing around her waist, squeezing as he flicked his tongue over her nipple. Marianne arched with a breathless groan. 

“Bog...Ohh Bog...” 

Bog switched his attentions to her other breast, his soft lips catching her nipple and holding it while the very tip of his tongue played across the sensitive surface of her nipple. Marianne groaned, her mouth open slightly, her eyes fluttering. Heat rushed to her groin from her breasts, making every inch of her feel on hot, every touch, every breath made her body ache for more. She wanted Bog badly, wanted him all over her, licking, touching every inch. Her hands stroked through his hair, cradling his head to her breasts while Bog sucked and licked at her nipples. Bog brought his hand from her hip around the smooth curve, stroking his fingers over her hip bone before gliding across her stomach, then lower, snaking between their bodies until the tip of his thumb found her clitoris. Feeling the damp heat of her desire, Bog slid his thumb lower, the pad of his thumb stroking down across her clitoris. Marianne moaned when he touched her, his thumb sliding between her intimate lips and stroking her tenderly, rolling the pad of his thumb over her, pressing down, then rolling again. Marianne leaned back opening herself up more to his caresses, placing one hand on his thigh, just above his missing limb, the other on the couch arm. Bog licked his lips stroking his thumb over her clitoris, his other hand held her waist, his eyes wandering up and down her body, once, to watch himself stroking her, then to gaze at the expression of complete pleasure on her face that he was causing. That made Bog more excited than if she had been touching him; the fact that he was pleasing her. 

Bog hissed gently. “Marianne...yes...oh..Marianne...” He rolled his thumb, pressing just a little more firmly. Marianne gasped in response. 

When Marianne dropped her head back, rolling her hips into his touch, Bog's body responded with a jerk, his erection swelling with need. He enjoyed watching her, listening to the little catches of her breath, the feeling of her wet on his fingers, just gazing at the way her mouth fell open when she moaned, the complete abandon in her expression... Bog sped up his strokes, just a little, not too fast. He wanted her to come, wanted to feel and hear her. Marianne's breath was coming faster, her hips nearly thrusting to meet the strokes of his thumb when she came, her whole body responding. 

“Oohh...Bog!!! Uuhh...” 

Bog grinned when she came,feeling her pressing down on him, her hands dropping to his shoulders, digging in as her body drew tight, then released in a gasp. He loved watching her, loved that he could make her feel that good, but he didn't get to enjoy his conquest for very long (nor did he get a chance to make her climax again) before Marianne shoved him back against the couch, her slender fingers digging into his shoulders when she shoved him back. She dropped a hand down between them, forcing Bog to remove his thumb. She wrapped her slender fingers around his shaft, made Bog grunt, his eyes rolling at the pleasurable feel of her gripping him. Her hand was firm, but not too tight, she knew just how to hold him. He was so sensitive right now that he was surprised her touch didn't send him over the edge. Her grasp made him feel as if everything in him was pulling toward his groin, as if that was the center of everything right now. At this point, a strong breeze might have made him climax, but to suddenly be plunged into the warm, wetness of Marianne was enough to cause Bog to gasp and spasm a little before his settled into her. Marianne grabbed the back of the couch, her hands on either side of his head and began to grind her hips, and not a slow grind, but a fucking grind. She wanted him hard, fast and now. Bog groaned, his hands wrapping around to squeeze her rear flowing with the movements of her undulating grinding. He let her lead, going as fast or as slow as she wanted; he simply held on for the ride, occasionally thrusting his hips to meet a particularly hard grind from Marianne. 

Marianne leaned forward, pressing her mouth to his and dropped her hands to his shoulders. Her kiss was slightly frantic as she grabbed his bottom lip with her teeth, tugging just a little before she arched her back, digging her fingers into his shoulders to keep herself from falling too far back. Bog grunted, his eyes following the curve of her body, watching the way she moved, his shaft slightly in and out of her; he whimpered with the difficulty of holding back. 

He groaned breathlessly. “Marianne...uuhh...yer killing me.” 

Marianne giggled. “Am I?” 

She shifted her legs, bringing her knees up, her feet planted on the couch on either side of him and rose her body up, then down. Bog gasped, his hands moving to cradle her hips. Marianne leaned back and dragged herself over him, glancing down to watch Bog's length disappearing into her. (For a moment, just a split second, it occurred her that they had forgot a condom, but she was on the pill...they should be fine). Marianne whimpered. “Oh God Bog...oh Bog...” 

Bog dragged his teeth over his bottom lip looking as if he were in pain instead of incredibly close to an intense orgasm. Marianne came with a hard forward thrust, wrapping her arms around his neck, yanking herself close. Bog held on tightly to her, hissing her name as his orgasm built. “Uuh...God Marianne...Marianne...” then in a loud groan, Bog let go with a long drawn out moan of her name. “Mmaarianne...Marianne...” 

* 

The next morning Marianne was lying in bed next to Bog who was still asleep. They were both naked under the blankets, Marianne having nearly carried him to bed where she ravaged him again. She grinned, her eyes still closed, for a moment reliving the memories of last night cuddled up beside Bog. He was lying on his back, one hand resting on his chest. She could hear the steady in and out of his breathing, the rhythm of his heart next to her ear. She smiled sitting up and leaned on her elbows to watch him sleep. A few locks of his dark hair had fallen over his forehead making him look even younger. She wanted to reach out and trace his nose, lips; she wanted to drag her fingers along the stubble of his chin, but she didn't want to wake him just yet. She had just thought about slipping under the sheets and waking him up anyway, when Bog's cellphone rang, destroying the silence and her planned wickedness. Marianne made a disappointed face as Bog came awake. He looked around bleary eyed for a moment. 

“What?” He reached over for his phone hitting the button without looking at the caller ID. “Yeah? I mean: Bog here.” 

Marianne couldn't hear the conversation on the other end, but she could follow most of the conversation through Bog's side and his facial expressions. Such as right now, she watched as Bog frowned. “No, no. I'm not interested in pressing charges....yeah, I understand. You do what you have to, but I'm not appearing in court. No, and that's my last word on it. Yeah, I understand. All right, thank you.” 

Bog pressed the button, tossing his phone back onto the bedside table with a clatter. Marianne frowned gazing at Bog's expression. He looked like a cross between angry, upset and maybe a little confused “What happened?” Marianne asked. 

Bog pressed his lips together. “It was a detective on my case. Apparently Roland turned himself in this morning, said he caused my accident, wanted to put everything out in the open. So they have him under arrest for assault with a vehicle, leaving the scene of a crime and a couple of other charges--I stopped listening. They wanted to know if I wanted to come down and file charges, give a statement.” 

“Is that when you said no?” Marianne curled up against his side. 

Bog nodded. “Aye. But he told me that they would be pursuing the case anyway, whether I file or not.” Marianne could feel the tension in his body. She stroked her fingertips along his chest and down his stomach. “What's wrong?” 

Bog shifted slightly, his arm coming up to wrap around her shoulders. “I don't know...I guess I was ready to just let it all go, but now it's all coming back...even if I don't file a complaint, the state is going to pursue charges. I just...I just want it all to go away.” Bog's voice dropped to a whisper. 

Marianne frowned, trying to think of something that would cheer him up when she suddenly sat up. Bog blinked, startled by her sudden movement. 

“I know what we should do!” Marianne grinned brightly. 

Bog just gazed at her questioningly. Marianne hopped up onto him, straddling his hips. “We are going to go to my family's cabin in the mountains.” 

Bog frowned, clearly confused. “What?” 

“My dad has a cabin in the woods. It's this cute little two bedroom place my Dad had built when we were kids. We used to go up there in the summer. We can pack our bags, stop by my Dad's place, grab the keys and just get away from everything and everyone for the weekend. Just the two of us.” 

Marianne beamed, clearly pleased with her idea. 

Bog frowned. “I don't know...I mean...it's not like I can go hiking or....” Before he could finish his sentence Marianne smacked her hand over his mouth. Bog looked up at her, his eyebrows raised in question and surprise. Marianne smiled. “Enough of that. You can do anything anyone else can do, including hiking. Besides, who said we would be leaving the cabin?” She waggled her eyebrows at him. “Besides, we have a wedding to plan and this will be a great chance for us to be alone and spend some time discussing our wedding. I'll even let you have time to work on your book.” 

Marianne giggled with a happy smile. 

Bog grinned against her palm, gazing up at her, his eyes full of love for the woman he was going to marry. Marianne slowly removed her hand, though she was clearly ready to cover his mouth again if he said anything negative. 

As soon as his mouth was clear Bog murmured. “All right, you win.” 

Marianne laughed giving his chest a light thump before she leaped to her feet and headed into the bathroom. “You better get used to it. I always win!”


End file.
